THE Wild Gallant: A COMEDY.  
As it was Acted at the THEATER-ROYAL BY HIS MAJESTY'S SERVANTS.  
WRITTEN, By JOHN DRYDEN, Esq  
In the SAVOY.  
Printed by Tho. Newcomb, for H. Herringman, at the Blue-anchor, in the Lower-Walk of the New-Exchange. 1669.   

Preface.  
IT would be a great Impudence in me to say much of a Comedy, which has had but indifferent success in the action. I made the Town my Judges; and the greater part condemned it. After which I do not think it my Concernment to defend it, with the ordinary Zeal of a Poet for his decried Poem. Though Corneille is more resolute in his Preface before his Pertharite, which was condemned more Uuiversally than this: for he avows boldly, That in spite of Censure his Play was well, and regularly written; which is more than I dare say for mine. Yet it was received at Court; and was more than once the Divertisement of His Majesty, by His own Command. But I have more modesty than to ascribe that to my Merit, which was His particular Act of Grace. It was the first attempt I made in Dramatic Poetry; and, I find since, a very bold one, to begin with Comedy; which is the most difficult part of it. The Plot was not Originally my own: but so altered, by me (whether for the better or worse, I know not) that, whoever the Author was, he could not have challenged a Scene of it. I doubt not but you will see in it, the uncorrectness of a young Writer: which is yet but a small excuse for him, who is so little amended since. The best Apology I can make for it, and the truest, is only this; That you have since that time received with Applause, as bad, and as uncorrect Plays from other Men.   

PROLOGUE to the WILD GALLANT, as it was first Acted.  

IS it not strange, to hear a Poet say,  
He comes to ask you, how you like the Play?  
You have not seen it yet! alas 'tis true,  
But now your Love and Hatred judge, not You.  
And cruel Factions (bribed by Interest) come,  
Not to weigh Merit, but to give their Doom:  
Our Poet therefore, jealous of th' Event,  
And (though much boldness takes) not confident.  
Has sent me, whither you, fair Ladies, too  
Sometimes upon as small occasions go,  
And from this Scheme, drawn for the hour and day,  
Bid me inquire the fortune of his Play.   The Curtain drawn discovers two Astrologers; The Prologue is presented to them. First Astrol. reads. 
A Figure of the heavenly Bodies in their several Apartments, Feb. the 5th. half an hour after three after Noon, from whence you are to judge the success of a new Play called the Wild Gallant.  2. Astrol. 
Who must judge of it, we, or these Gentlemen? We'll not meddle with it, so tell your Poet. Here are in this House the ablest Mathematicians in Europe for his purpose.  They will resolve the question e'er they part. 1. Ast. 
Yet let us judge it by the rules of Art.  
First Jupiter, the Ascendants Lord disgraced,  
In the twelfth House, and near grim Saturn placed,  
Denote short life unto the Play:—  2. Ast. 
— Jove yet,  
In his Apartment Sagitary, set  
Under his own Roof, cannot take much wrong;  1. Ast. 
Why then the life's not very short, nor long;  2. Ast. 
The luck not very good, nor very ill,  Prolo. 
That is to say, 'tis as 'tis taken still.  1. Ast. 
But, Brother, Ptolemy the Learned says,  
'Tis the fifth house from whence we judge of Plays.  
Venus' the Lady of that House I find  
Is Peregrine, your Play is ill designed,  
It should have been but one continued Song,  
Or at the least a Dance of 3 hours long.  2. Ast. 
But yet the greatest Mischief does remain,  
The twelfth Apartment bears the Lord of Spain;  
Whence I conclude, it is your Author's lot,  
To be endangered by a Spanish Plot.  Prolo. 
Our Poet yet protection hopes from you,  
But bribe's you not with any thing that's new.  
Nature is old, which Poets imitate,  
And for Wit, those that boast their own estate,  
Forget Fletcher and Ben before them went,  
Their Elder Brothers, and that vastly spent:  
So much 'twill hardly be repaired again,  
Not, though supplied with all the wealth of Spain:  
This Play is English, and the growth your own;  
As such it yields to English Plays alone.  
He could have wished it better for your sakes;  
But that in Plays he finds you love mistakes:  
Besides he thought it was in vain to mend  
What you are bound in honour to defend,  
That English Wit (how e'er despised by some)  
Like English Valour still may overcome   

PROLOGUE to the WILD-GALLANT Revived.  

AS some raw Squire, by tender Mother bred,  
Till one and Twenty keeps his Maidenhead,  
(Pleased with some Sport, which he alone does find,  
And thinks a secret to all Humane kind;)  
Till mightily in love, yet half afraid,  
He first attempts the gentle Dairymaid.  
Succeeding there, and led by the renown  
Of Whetstone's Park, he comes at length to Town,  
Where entered, by some School-fellow or Friend,  
He grows to break Glass-Windows in the end:  
His valour too, which with the Watch began,  
Proceeds to duel, and he kills his Man.  
By such degrees, while knowledge he did want,  
Our unfletched Author, writ a Wild Gallant.  
He thought him monstrous lewd (I'll lay my life)  
Because suspected with his Landlord's Wife:  
But since his knowledge of the Town began,  
He thinks him now a very civil man:  
And, much ashamed of what he was before,  
Has fairly played him at three Wenches more.  
'Tis some amends his frailties to confess;  
Pray pardon him his want of wickedness:  
He's towardly, and will come on apace;  
His frank confession shows he has some grace.  
You balked him when he was a young beginner,  
And almost spoiled a very hopeful sinner:  
But, if once more you slight his weak endeavour;  
For ought I know, he may turn tail for ever.    

THE Wild Gallant. The Scene LONDON.  

Names of the persons.  Lord Nonsuch, 
An old rich humorous Lord.  Justice Trice. 
His Neighbour.  Mr. Loveby. 
The Wild Gallant.  Sir Timorous. 
A bashful Knight.  Failer, Burr, 
Hangers on of Sir Timorous.  Bibber, 
A Tailor.  Setstone, 
A Jeweller.   

Women.  Lady Constance, 
Lord Nonsuch his Daughter.  Madam Isabelle, 
Her Cousin.  Mrs. Bibber. 
The Tailor's Wife.   

Sergeants.  
Boy to Loveby,  
Servants.  
A Bawd and Whores.  
Watch and Constable.    

THE Wild Gallant. SCENE LONDON  

ACT I  

SCENE I.  Failer entering to Burr; who is putting on his Buffcoat. Fail. 
WHat! Not ready yet, Man?  Burr. 
You do not consider my Voyage from Holland last night.  Fail. 
Pish, a mere Ferry; get up, get up; my Cousin's Maids will come and Blanket thee anon: Art thou not ashamed to lie a Bed so long?  Bur. 
I may be more ashamed to rise; and so you'll say, dear Heart, if you look upon my clothes; the best is, my Buffcoat will cover all.  Fail. 
I gad, there goes more cunning than one would think, to the putting thy clothes together: thy Doublet and Breeches are Guelphs and Ghibellins to one another; and the stitches of thy Doublet are so far asunder, that it seems to hang together by the Teeth. No Man could ever guests to what part of the Body these fragments did belong, unless he had been acquainted with 'em as long as thou hast been. If they once lose their hold, they can never get together again, except by chance the Rags hit the Tallies of one another. He that gets into thy Doublet, must not think to do't by storm; no, he must win it inch by inch, as the Turk did Rhodes.  Burr. 
You are very merry with my Wardrobe: but till I am provided of a better, I am resolved to receive all Visits in this Truckle-bed.  Fail. 
Then will I first scotch the Wheels of it, that it may not run; thou hast Cattle enough in it, to carry it down stairs, and break thy neck. 'tis got a yard nearer the door already.  Enter Boy. Sir, 
Mr. Bibber your tailor's below, and desires to speak with you.  Fail. 
He's an honest Fellow, and a fashionable, he shall set thee forth I warrant thee.  Burr. 
I, but where's the Money for this dear Heart?  Fail, 
— Well, but what think you of being put into a Suit of clothes, without Money?  [aside. Burr. 
You speak of Miracles.  Fail. 
Do you not know Will. Bibbers humour?  Burr. 
Prithee, What have I to do with his humour?  Fail. 
Break but a Jest, and he'll beg to trust thee for a Suit; nay, he will contribute to his own destruction; and give thee occasions to make one: he has been my Artificer these three years; and, all the while I have lived upon his favourable apprehension: Boy, conduct him up.  [Exit Boy. Burr. 
But, What am I the better for this? I ne'er made Jest in all my life.  Fail. 
A bare clinch will serve the turn; a Carwichet, a Quarterquibble, or a Punn.  Burr. 
Wit from a Low-Countrey-Soldier? One that has conversed with none but dull Dutchmen these ten years! What an unreasonable Rogue art thou? why, I tell thee, 'tis as difficult to me, as to pay him ready Money.  Fail. 
Come, you shall be ruled for your own good, Lie down; I'll throw the clothes over you to help Meditation; and, upon the first opportunity, start you up, and surprise him with a Jest.  Burr. 
Well, I think this impossible to be done: but, however I'll attempt.  [Lies down Failer covers him. Fail. 
Hush! he's coming up.  Enter Bibber. Bib. 
Morrow Mr. Failer: What, I warrant you think I come a Dunning now?  Fail. 
No, I vow to Gad, Will, I have a better opinion of thy Wit, than to think, thou wouldst come to so little purpose.  Bib. 
Pretty well that: No, no; my business is to drink my mornings-Draught in Sack with you.  Fail. 
Will not Ale serve the turn, Will?  Bib. 
I had too much of that last night; I was a little disguised, as they say.  Fail. 
Why disguised? Hadst thou put on a clean Band, or washed thy Face lately? those are thy Disguises, Bibber.  Bibb. 
Well, in short, I was drunk; damnably drunk with Ale; great Hogen Mogen bloody Ale: I was porterly drunk, and that I hate of all things in Nature.  Burr. 
Rising: And of all things in Nature I love it best.  Bib. 
Art thou there I'faith; and why, old Boy?  Burr. 
Because when I am porterly drunk, I can carry myself.  Bib. 
Ha', ha' Boy.  Fail. 
This Porter brings sad News to you Will. you must trust him for a suit of clothes, as bad as 'tis: come, h's an honest Fellow, and loves the King.  Bib. 
Why? it shall be my Suit to him, that I may trust him.  Burr. 
I grant your Suit, Sir,  Fail. Burr. 
Make haste and dress you: Sir Timorous Dines here to day you know him.  Burr. 
I, I a good honest young Fellow; but, no Conjurer; he and I are very kind.  Fail. 
I gad we two have a constant Revenue out of him: he would now be admitted Suitor to my Lady Constance Nonsuch, my Lord Nonsuch his Daughter; our Neighbour here in Fleet street.  Burr. 
Is the Match in any forwardness?  Fail. 
He never saw her before yesterday, and will not be brought to speak to her this Month yet.  Burr. 
That's strange.  Fail. 
Such a bashful Knight did I never see; but we must move for him.  Bib. 
They say here's a great Dinner to be made to day here, at your Cousin Trices, on purpose for the interview.  Burr. 
What he keeps up his old humour still?  Fail. 
Yes certain; he admires eating and drinking well, as much as ever, and measures every man's wit, by the goodness of his Palate.  Burr. 
Who Dines here besides.  Fail. 
Jac. Loveby.  Bib. 
O, my Guest.  Burr. 
He has ever had the repute of a brave clear-spirited Fellow.  Fail. 
He's one of your Dear Hearts, a Debau che.  Burr. 
I love him the better for't: the best Heraldry of a Gentleman is a Clapderived to him, from three Generations: What fortune has he?  Fail. 
Good Fortune at all Games; but no Estate: he had one; but he has made a Devil on't long ago: he's a bold Fellow, I vo w to Gad: a person that keep; company with his betters; and commonly has Gold in's pockets: come Bibber; I see thou longest to be at thy morning's watering: I'll try what credit I have with the Butler.  Burr. 
Come away my noble Festus and new Customer.  Fail. 
Now will he drink till his Face be no bigger than a threepences.  (Exeunt. Enter Loveby and Boy; followed by Frances Bibbers Wife. Lov. 
Nay, the Devil take thee, sweet Landlady, hold thy tongue: Was't not enough thou hast scolded me from my Lodging, which, as long as I rend it, is my Castle; but to follow me here to Mr. Trices, where I am invited; and to discredit me before strangers, for a lousy, Paltry sum of Money?  Franc. 
I tell you truly, Mr. Loveby, my husband and I cannot live by Love, as they say; we must have wherewithal, as they say; and pay for what we take; and so shall you, or some shall smoak for't.  Lov. 
Smoak! why a piece of hung Beef in Holland is not more smoked, than thou hast Smoked me already. Thou knowst I am now fasting; let me have but fair play; when I have lined my sides with a good dinner, I'll engage upon reputation to come home again, and thou shalt scold at me all the afternoon.  Franc. 
I'll take the Law on you.  Lov. 
The Law allows none to scold in their own Causes: What dost thou think the Lawyers take our money for?  Franc. 
I hope you intent to deal by my Husband like a Gentleman, as they say?  Lov. 
Then I should beat him most unmercifully, and not pay him neither.  Franc. 
Come, you think to fob me off with your Jests as you do my Husband; but it won't be: yonder he comes, and company with him; Husband, husband; why William I say!  Enter Bibber, Burr, and Failer at the other end. Lov. 
Speak softly, and I will satisfy thee.  Franc. 
You shall not satisfy me, Sir; pay me for what you own me, for Chamber-rent, and Diet, and many a good thing besides, that shall be nameless.  Lov. 
What a Stygian woman's this to talk thus? hold thy tongue till they be gone, or I'll Cuckold thy husband:  Fran. 
You Cuckolded him— would you durst Cuckold him; I will not hold my Tongue, Sir.  Bib. 
Yonder's my Guest; what say you Gentlemen? shall I call him to go down with us?  Lov. 
I must make a lose from her, there's no otherway: Save ye Mr. Failer; is your Cousin Trice stirring yet: answer me quickly Sir, is your Cousin Trice yet stirring?  Fail. 
I'll go and see, Sir; sure the man has a mind to beat me; but I vow to Gad I have no mind to be beaten by him: come away  Burr. 
Will. you'll follow us.  Bib. 
I'll be with you immediately—  [Exeunt Burr. Failer. Lov. 
Who was that with Failer, Will.  Bib. 
A man at Arms, that's come from Holland.  Lov. 
A man out at Arms thou meanest, Will.  Bib. 
Good I'faith.  Franc. 
I, I; you runquesting up and down after your Gambols, and your Jests William; and never mind the main chance, as they say: pray get in your Debts, and think upon your Wife and Children.  Lov. 
Think upon the Sack at Cary-House, with the Apricot flavour Will. hang a Wife; What is she, but a lawful kind of manslayer? every little hug in bed, is a degree of murdering thee: and for thy Children fear 'em not: thy part of 'em shall be Tailors, and they shall trust; and those thy Customers get for thee shall be Gentlemen, and they shall be trusted by their Brethren; and so thy children shall live by one another.  Bib. 
Did you mark that Frances? there was wit now; he called me Cuckold to my face, and yet for my heart I cannot be angry with him: I perceive you love Frances Sir 〈◊〉 I love her the better for your sake; speak truly, do you 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 such a pretty brown kind of woman?  Lov. 
I do I'faith, Will. your fair Women have no substance in 'em they shrink i'th' wetting.  Franc. 
Well, you may be undone if you will Husband: I hear there are 2 or 3 Actions already out against him: you may be the last, if you think good.  Bib. 
'Tis true she tells me; I love your wit well Sir; but I must cut my coat according to my cloth.  Franc. 
Sir, we'll come by our own as we can; if you put us off from week to week thus.  Lov. 
Nay, but good Landlady—  Franc. 
Will good Landlady set on the Pot, as they say; or make the Jack go; then I'll hear you.  Bib. 
Now she's too much on the t'other hand: hold your prating Frances; or I'll put you out of your Pater Nosters with a sorrow to you.  Franc. 
I did but lay the Law open to him, as they say, whereby to get our money in: but if you knew how he had used me Husband.  Bib. 
Has he used you Frances; put so much more into his Bill for Lodging.  Lov. 
Honest Will, and so he died; I thank thee little Bibber, being sober, and when I am drunk, I will kiss thee for't.  Bib. 
Thank me, and pay me my money, Sir; though I could not forbear my jest, I do not intent to lose by you; if you pay me not the sooner, I must provide you another Lodging; say I gave you warning.  Lov. 
Against next quarter Landlord?  Bib. 
Of an hour Sir.  Lov. 
That's short warning, Will.  Bib. 
By this hand you shall up into the Garret where the little bed is; I'll let my best room to a better paymaster; you know the Garret, Sir.  Franc. 
I, he knows it by a good Token Husband.  Lov. 
I sweat to think of that Garret, Will. thou art not so unconscionable to put me there: why 'tis a kind of little ease, to cramp thy rebellious Prentices in; I have seen an Usurer's Iron Chest would hold two on't: a penny Looking-glass cannot stand upright in the Window, that and the Brush fills it: the Hat-case must be disposed under the Bed, and the Comb-case will hang down form the Ceiling to the Floor. If I chance to Dine in my Chamber, I must stay till I am empty before I can get out: and if I chance to spill the Chamber-pot, it will overflow it from top to bottom.  Bib. 
Well, for the description of the Garret, I'll bate you something of the Bill.  Lov. 
All, all, good Will. or to stay thy fury till my Rents come up; I will describe thy little Face.  Bib, 
No, rather describe your own little money; I am sure that's so Little, it is not visible.  Lov. 
You are i'th' right, I have not a cross at present, as I am a sinner; and you will not believe me, I'll turn my Pockets inside outward— Ha! What's the meaning of this, my Pockets heavy? Has my small Officer put in Counters to abuse me?— How now, yellow Boys, by this good light! Sirrah, Varlet, how came I by this Gold? Ha!  Boy. 
What Gold do you mean, Sir? the Devil-a-piece you had this morning: in these last three weeks, I have almost forgot what my Teeth were made for; last night good Mrs. Bibber here took pity on me, and crumbed me a Mess of Gruel, with the Children, and I popped and popped my Spoon three or four times to my mouth, before I could find the way to't.  Lov. 
'Tis strange, how I should come by so much Money! (aside. Has there been no body about my Chamber this morning, Landlady?  Boy 
O yes, Sir; I forgot to tell you that: this Morning a strange Fellow, as ever eyes beheld, would needs come up to you when you were asleep; but when he came down again, he said, He had not waked you.  Lov. 
Sure this Fellow, who e'er he was, was sent by Fortune to mistake me into so much Money.— Well, this is not the first time my necessities have been strangely supplied: some Cadua or other has a kindness for me, that's certain: (aside.— Well Monsieur Bibbèr, from henceforward I'll keep my wit for more refined spirits; you shall be paid with dirt;— there's Money for you.  Bib. 
Nay, Good Sir.—  Lov. 
What's your sum? tell it out: Will the Money burn your fingers? Sirrah, Boy, fetch my Suit with the Gold Lace at Sleeves from Tribulation— Gives him Gold.  [Exit. Boy. Mr. Taylour, 
I shall turn the better Billman, and knock that little Coxcomb of yours, if you do not answer me what I own you.  Bib. 
Pray Sir, troub not yourself; 'tis nothing; Ifeck now 'tis not.  Lov. 
How, nothing Sir?  Franc. 
an't please your worship, it was seventeen pounds and a Noble, yesterday at noon, your worship knows: and then your worship came home ill last night, and complained of your worship's head; and I sent for three Dishes of Tea foe your good worship, and that was six pence more, and please your worship's honour.  Lov. 
Well; there's eighteen pieces, tell 'em.  Bib. 
I say, Frances, do not take 'em,  Lov. 
What, Is all your pleading of necessity come to this?  Bib. 
Now I see he will pay, he shall not pay, Frances; go home, and fetch him the whole bag of forty pounds, I'll lend it him, and the Lease of the House too; he shall want for nothing.  Lov. 
Take the Money, or I'll leave your house.  Bib. 
Nay, rather than displease his Worship, take it.  [She takes it. Lov. 
So, so; go home quietly, and Suckle my Godson, Francis.  [Exit Frances. Bib. 
If you are for the Cellar, Sir, you know the way.  [Exit Bibber. Lov. 
No, my first visit shall be to my Mistress, the Lady Constance Nonsuch: She's discreet, and how the Devil she comes to love me, I know not; yet I am pretty confident she loves me: well, no woman can be wiser than, you know what will give her leave to be.  Enter Lady Constance, and Madam Isabel. Isa. 
Look, look; Is not that your Servant, Loveby.?  Love. 
'Tis she; there's no being seen, till I am better habited—  [Exit Loveby. Const. 
Let him go, and take no notice of him: poor Rogue!  
He little thinks I know his poverty.  Isa. 
And less, that you supply it by an unknown hand.  Const. 
I, and falfified my Father's Keys to do it.  Isa. 
How can you answer this to your discretion?  Const. 
Who could see him want she loves?  Enter Setstone. Isa. 
Oh here's Mr. Setstone come, your Jeweller, Madam.  Const. 
Welcome Setstone, hast thou performed thy visit  
Happi y, and without discovery?  Set. 
As you would wish it, Madam: I went up to his  
Chamber without interruption; and there found him  
Drowning his cares, and pacifying his hunger with sleep;  
Which advantage I took, and undiscovered by him left  
The Gold divided in his Pockets.  Const. 
Well, this Money will furnish him I hope, that we may have his company again.  Set. 
Two hundred and fifty good pounds, Madam! Has your Father missed it yet?  Const. 
No; if he had, we should have all heard on't before how: but, pray God Monsieur Loveby has no other haunts to divert him now he's ransomed: what a kind of woman is his Landlady?  Set. 
Well enough to serve a Tailor; or to kiss when he comes home drunk, or wants money; but, far unlikely to create jealousy in your Ladyship.  Enter Servant. Seru. 
Madam, Justice Trice desires your Ladyship's excuse, that he has not yet performed the Civilities of his hour to you; he is dispatching a little business, about which he is earnestly employed.  Const. 
He's Master of his own occasions.  [Exit Servant. Isa. 
We shall see him anon, with his face as read, as if it had been boiled in pump-water: but, When comes this Miror of Knighthood that is to be presented you for your Servant?  Const. 
Oh, 'tis well thought on; I'faith thou knowst my affections are otherwise disposed; he's rich, and thou want'st a Fortune; achieve him if thou canst; 'tis but trying, and thou hast as much wit as any Wench in England.  Isa. 
On condition you'll take it for a Courtesy to be rid of an Ass, I care not if I marry him: the old fool, your Father, would be so importunate to match you with a young Fool, that partly for quietness sake I am content to take him.  Const. 
To take him! then you make sure on't.  Isa. 
As sure, as if the Sack Posset were already eaten.  Const. 
But, What means wilt thou use to get him?  Isa. 
I'll bribe Failer, he's the man.  Const. 
Why this Knight is his inheritance; he lives upon him: Dost thou think he'll ever admit thee to govern him? no, he fears thy wit too much: besides, he has already received an hundred pound to make thee Match between Sir Timorous and me.  Isa. 
'Tis all one for that; I warrant you he sells me Fee-simple of him.  Set. 
Your Father, Madam.—  Enter Nonsuch. Isab. 
The Tempest is risen; I see it in his face; he puffs and blows yonder, as if two of the Winds were fight upwards and downwards in his belly.  Set. 
Will he not find your false Keys, Madam?  Isa. 
I hope he will have more Humanity then to search us.  Const. 
You are come after us betimes, Sir.  Non. 
Oh Child! I am undone; I am robbed, I am robbed; I have utterly lost all stomach to my dinner.  Const. 
Robbed! good my Lord how, or of what?  Non. 
Two hundred and fifty pounds in fair Gold out of my Study: an hundred of it I was to have paid a Courtier this afternoon for a Bribe.  Set. 
I protest, my Lord, I had as much a do to get that parcel of Gold for your Lordship.—  Non. 
You must get me as much more against to morrow; for than my Friend at Court is to pay his Mercer.  Isa. 
Nay, if that be all, there's no such haste: the Courtiers are not so forward to pay their Debts.  Const. 
Has not the Monkey been in the Study? he may have carried it away, and dropped it under the Garden-window: the grafs is long enough to hid it.  Non. 
I'll go see immediately.  Enter Failer, Burr, Timorous. Fail. 
This is the Gentleman, my Lord  Non. 
He's welcome—  Fail. 
And this the particular of his Estate.  Non. 
That's welcome too.  Fail. 
But, besides the Land here mentioned, he has wealth in specie.  Non. 
A very fine young Gentleman.  Tim. 
Now, my Lord, I hope there's no great need of Wooing: I suppose my Estate will speak for me; yet, if you please to put in a word.  Non. 
That will I instantly.  Tim. 
I hope I shall have your good word too Madam, to your Cousin for me;  [To Isabelle.] Isa. 
Any thing within my power, Sir Timorous.  Non. 
Daughter, here's a person of Quality, and one that loves and honours you exceedingly—  Tim. 
Nay, good my Lord! you discover all at first dash.  Non. 
Let me alone, Sir; Have not I the dominion over my own Daughter? Constance, here's a Knight in love with you, Child.  Const. 
In love with me, my Lord, it is not possible.  Non. 
Here he stands that will make it good, Child.  Tim. 
Who I, my Lord? I hope her Ladyship has a better opinion of me than so.  Non. 
What, Are not you in love with my Daughter? I'll be Sworn you told me so but even now: I'll eat words for no man.  Tim. 
If your Ladyship will believe all reports that are raised on Men of Quality—  Non. 
He told it me with his own mouth, Child: I'll eat words for no man; that's more than ever I told him yet.  Fail. 
You told him so but just now; fie, Sir Timorous.  Non. 
He shall have no Daughter of mine and he were a thousand Knights; he told me, he hoped I would speak for him: I'll eat no man's words; that's more than ever I told him yet.  Isa. 
You need not keep such a pother about eating his words; you see he has eaten 'em already for you.  Non. 
I'll make him stand to his words, and he shall not marry my Daughter neither: by this good day, I will—  [Exit Nonsuch. Const. 
'Tis an ill day to him; he has lost 250 l. in't.  [To Isab. Burr. 
He swears at the rate of two thousand pounds a year, if the Rump Act were still in being.  Fail. 
He's in passion man; and besides, he has been a great Fanatic formerly, and now has got a habit of Swearing, that he may be thought a Cavalier.  Burr. 
What noise is that? I think I hear your Cousin Trice's voice.  Fail. 
I'll go see—  Exit Fail, Isab. 
Come Sir Timorous, be not discouraged: 'tis but an old man's srowardness; he's always thus against rain.  Enter Failer. Fail. 
O Madam follow me quickly; and if you do not see sport, Melancholy be upon my head.—  [Exeunt omnes. The Scene changes, and Trice is discovered playing at Tables by himself, with Spectacles on, a Bottle, and Parmezan by him; they return and see him, undiscovered by him. Trice. 
Cinque and Cater: my Cinque I play here Sir, my Cater here Sir: Now for you Sir: but first I'll drink to you Sir; upon my faith I'll do you reason Sir: mine was thus full Sir: pray mind your play Sir:— Size Ace I have thrown: I'll play 'em at length Sir:— will you Sir? then you have made a blot Sir; I'll try if I can enter: I have hit you Sir.  
— I think you can cog a die Sir.  
— I cog a die Sir? I play as fair as you, or any man.  
— You lie Sir, how lie Sir; I'll teach you what 'tis to give a Gentleman the lie Sir.—  [Throws down the Tables. They all laugh and discover themselves. Isab. 
Is this your serious business?  Trice. 
O you Rogue are you there? you are welcome huswife, and so are you Constance, fa tol de re tol de re la.  Claps their backs. Isab. 
Prithee be not so●ude Trice.  Trice: 
Huswise Constance, I'll have you into my Larder, and show you my provision: I have Cocles, dainty fat Cocles that came in the night; if they had seen the day, I would not have given a fart for 'em. I would the King had 'em.  Const. 
He has as good I warrant you.  Trice: 
Nay that's a lie, I could sit and cry for him sometimes he does not know what 'tis to eat a good meal in a whole year: his Cooks are Asses: I have a delicate dish of Ruffs to dinner Sirrah.  Const. 
To dinner!  Trice. 
To dinner! why by supper they had been past their prime. I'll tell thee the story of 'em: I have a friend.—  Enter Servant. Sir Dinner's upon the Table. Trice. 
Well, well; I have a friend as I told you.—  Seru. 
Dinner stays Sir, 'tis Dinner that stays: sure he will hear now.  Trice. 
I have a friend as I told you.—  Isab. 
I believe h's your friend, you are so loath to part with him—  Trice. 
Away; away;— I ll tell you the story between the courses. Go you to the Cook immediately, Sirrah; and bring me word what we have to supper, before we go to dinner; I love to have the satisfaction of the day before me.  Exeunt omnes.   

ACT. II.  

SCENE II.  Enter as from Dinner, Trice, Timorous, Failer, Burr, Constace, Isabelle. Trice. 
SPeak thy conscience; was it not well dressed sirrah?  Tim. 
What think you of the Park, after our plenteous entertainment Madam?  Isab. 
I defy the Park, and all its works.  Const. 
Come, Mr. Trice, we'll walk in your Garden.  Exeunt preter Failer and Burr. Fail. 
O, one thing I had almost forgot to tell you: one of us two must ever be near Sir Timorous.  Burr. 
Why?  Fail. 
To guard our interest in him from the Enemy Madam Isabelle; who, I doubt, has designs upon him. I do not fear her wit, but her sex; she carries a prevailing argument about her.  Enter Bibber with a Bottle. Bib. 
By this hand, I have a light upon the best wine in your Coufins' Cellar, drink but one glass to me, to show I am welcome, and I am gone.  Fail. 
Here then, honest Will. 'tis a cup of forbearance to thee.  Bib. 
Thank you Sir, I'll pledge you— now here's to you again.  Fail. 
Come away; what is't Will.  Bib. 
'Tis what you christened it, a cup of forbearance Sir.  Fail. 
Why, I drank that to thee Will. that thou shouldst forbear thy money.  Bib. 
And I drink this to you, Sir; henceforward I'll forbear working for you.  Fail. 
Then say I: take a little Bibber, and throw him in the River, and if he will trust never, then there let him lie ever.  Bib. 
Then say I: take a little Failer, and throw him to the Jailor; and there let him lie, till he has paid his Tailor.  Bur. 
You are very smart upon one another Gentlemen.  Fail. 
This is nothing between us; I use to tell him of his Title, Fiery facias; and his setting dog, that runs into Alehouses before him, and comes questing out again, if any of the woots his customers be within.  Bib. 
I faith 'tis true; and I use to tell him of his two Capons tails about his hat, that are laid spread eagle wise to make a feather; I would go into the snow at any time, and in a quarter of an hour I would come in with a better feather upon my head; and so farewell Sir; I have had the better on you hitherto, and for this time I am resolved to keep it.  [Exit Bibber. Fail. 
The rogue's too hard for me; but the best on't is, I have my revenge upon his purse.  Enter Isabelle. Isab. 
Came not Sir Timorous this way, Gentlemen? he left us in the Garden, and said he would look out my Lord Nonsuch, to make his peace with him.  Fail. 
Madame, I like not your enquiting after Sir Timorous: I suspect you have some design upon him: you would fain undermine your Cousin, and marry him yourself.  Isab. 
Suppose I should design it; what are you the worse for my good fortune? Shall I make a proposition to you: I know you two carry a great stroke with him: make the match between us, and propound to yourselves what advantages you can reasonably hope: you shall choose him of horses, clothes and Money, and I'll wink at it.  Bur. 
And if he will not be choosed, shall we beat him out on't?  Isab. 
For that, as you can agree.  Fail. 
Give us a handsel of the bargain; let us enjoy you, and 'tis a match.  Isab. 
Grammarcy i'faith boys; I love a good offer how e'er the world goes? but you would not be so base to wrong him that way.  Fail. 
I vow to gad but I would Madam: in a horse or a woman I may lawfully cheat my own Father: besides, I know the Knight's complexion; he would be sure to follow other women; and all that.  Isab. 
Nay, if he fought with the sword, he should give me leave to fight with the Scabbard.  Bur. 
What say you Madam? is't a bargain.  Isab. 
'Tis but a promise; and I have learned a Court trick for performing any thing. (aside) Well Gentlemen, when I am married I'll think upon you; you'll grant there's a necessity I should Cuckold him, if it were but to prove myself a Wit..  Fail. 
Nay, there's no doubt you'll Cuckold him; and all that; for look you he's a person fit for nothing else; but I fear we shall not have the graffing of the horns; we must have Livery and Seisin before hand of you, or I protest to gad we believe you not.  Isa. 
I have past my word, is't not sufficient? what do you think, I would tell a lie to save such a paltry thing as a night's lodging?— Hark you Sir:  (to Burr.) Fail. 
Now will she attempt Burr; igad she has found him out for the weaker vessel.  Isa. 
I have no kindness for that Failer, we'll strike him out, and man ge Sir Timorous ourselves.  Burr: 
Indeed we wonot.  Isa. 
Failer's a Rook, and besides, he's such a debauched fellow.  Burr. 
I am ten times worse.  Isa. 
Leave it, and him that taught it you: you have virtuous inclinations, and I would not have you ruin yourself. He that serves many Mistresses, surfeits on his diet, and grows dead to the whole sex: 'tis the folly in the world next long ears and braying.  Bur. 
Now I'm sure you have a mind to me; when a woman once falls to preaching, the next thing is ever use and application.  Isa. 
Forbear your rudeness—  Bur. 
Then I am sure you meant to jilt me: you decline Failer because he has wit; and you think me such an ass, that you may pack me off so soon as you are married; no, no, I'll not venture certainties for uncertainties.  Isa. 
I can hold no longer; Mr. Failer, what do you think this fellow was saying of you?  Fail. 
Of me, Madam.  Isa. 
That you were one of the arrantest Cowards in Christendom, though you went for one of the Dear Hearts: that your name had been upon more posts than play-bills: and that he had been acquainted with you these seven years, drunk and sober, and yet could never fasten a quarrel upon you.  Bur. 
Do you believe this, Dear Heart?  Isa. 
If you deny it, I'll take his sword, and force you to confess it.  Fail. 
I vow to gad, this will not do, Madam: you shall not set us at variance so easily; neither shall you have Sir Timorous.  Isa. 
No! then mark my words: I'll marry him in spite of you; and which is worse, you shall both work my ends; and I'll discard you for your pains.  Fail. 
You shall not touch a bit of him: Ill preserve his humbles from you igad; they shall be his Keeper's fees.  Bur. 
She shall cut an Atom sooner than divide us.  Exeunt Burr and Failer. Enter Constance. Con. 
I have given 'em the slip in the Garden, to come and overhear thee: no fat overgrown virgin of forty ever offered herself so dog cheap, or was more despised: methinks now this should mortify thee exceedingly.  Isa. 
Not a whit the more for that: Cousin mine, our Sex is not so easily put out of conceitwith our own beauties.  Con. 
Thou hast lost the opinion of thy honesty, and got nothing in recompense: now that's such an oversight in a Lady.  Isab. 
You are deceived; they think me too virtuous for their purpose; but I have yet another way to try, and you shall help me.  Enter Loveby new habited. Const. 
Mr. Loveby. welcome, welcome: where have you been this fortnight.  Lov. 
Faith Madam, out of Town to see a little thing that's fallen to me upon the death of a Grandmother.  Const. 
You thank death for the windfall, Servant: but why are you not in mourning for her.  Lov. 
Troth Madam it came upon me so suddenly I had not time: 'twas a fortune utterly unexpected by me.  Isab. 
Why, was your Grandmother so young you could not look for her disease?  Lov. 
Not for that neither; but I had many other kindred whom she might have left it to, only she heard I lived here in fashion, and spent my money in the eye of the world.  Const. 
You forge these things prettily; but I have heard you are as poor as a decimated Cavalier, and had not one foot of land in all the world.  Lov. 
Rival's tales, Rivals tales, Madam.  Const. 
Where lies your land, Sir?  Lov. 
I'll tell you Madam, it has upon it a very fair Manor house; from one side you have in prospect an hanging Garden.  Isa. 
Who was hanged there? not your Grandmother I hope?  Lov, 
In the midst of it you have a Fountain: you have seen that at Hampton-Court; it will serve to give you a slight image of it. Beyond the Garden you look to a River through a Perspective of fruit-trees; and beyond the River you see a Mead so flowery: well I shall never be at quiet, till we two make hay there.  Const. 
But where lies this Paradise?  Lov. 
Pox on't; I am thinking to sell it, it has such a villainous unpleasant name; it would have sounded so harsh in a Lady's ear. But for the Fountain, Madam—  Const. 
The Fountain's a poor excuse, it will not hold water; come the name, the name.  Lov. 
Faith it is come so lately into my hands, that I have forgot the name on't,  Isab. 
That's much, now, you should forget the name, and yet could make such an exact description of the place.  Lov. 
If you will needs know, the name's Bawdy; sure this will give a stop to their curiosity.  (aside.) Isa. 
At least you'll tell us in what County it lies, that my Cousin may send to inquire about it; come, this shall not serve your turn, tell us any Town that's near it.  Lov. 
'Twill be somewhat too far to send; it lies in the very North of Scotland.  Isa. 
In good time, a Paradise in the Highlands; is't not so Sir?  Const. 
It seems you went Post, Servant: in troth you are a rank rider, to go to the North of Scotland, stay and take possession, and return again, in ten days time.  Isa. 
I never knew your Grandmother was a Scotch woman: is she not a Tartar too: pray whistle for her, and let's see her dance: come— whist Grannee!  Const. 
Fie fie Servant; what no invention in you? all this while a studying for a name of your Manor? come, come, where lies it? tell me.  Lov. 
No faith, I am wiser than so; I'll discover my Seat to no man; so I shall have some damned Lawyer keep a prying into my title to defeat me of it.  Const. 
How then shall I be satisfied there is such a thing in Nature?  Lov. 
Tell me what Jewel you would wear, and you shall have it: Inquire into my money, there's the trial.  Const. 
Since you art so flush, Sir, you shall give me a Locket of Diamonds of three hundred pounds.  Isa. 
That was too severe; you know he has but 250 l. to bestow.  [to her.] Lov. 
Well you shall have it, Madam: but I cannot higgle: I know you'll say it did not cost above 200 pieces.  Isa. 
I'll be hanged if he does not present you with a parcel of melted Flints set in Gold, of Norfolk pebbles.  Lov. 
Little Gentlewoman you are so keen:— Madam, this night I have appointed business, to morrow I'll wait upon you with it.  Exit Loveby. Isa. 
By that time he has bought his Locket, and paid his Landlady, all his Money will be gone: but, Do you mean to prosecute your plot, to see him this evening?  Const. 
Yes, and that very privately; if my Father know it I am undone.  Enter Setstone. Isa. 
I heard him say this night he had appointed business.  Set. 
Why that was it Madam; according to your order I put on a disguise, and found him in the Temple-Walkes: having drawn him aside, I told him, if he expected happiness, he must meet me in a blind Alley I named to him, on the backside of Mr. Trices house, just at the close of evening; there he should be satisfied from whom he had his suplies of Money.  Const. 
And how did he receive the Summons?  Set. 
Like a bold Hector of Troy; without the least doubt or scruple: but, the jest on't was, he would needs believe that I was the Devil.  Const. 
Sure he was afraid to come then.  Set. 
Quite contrary; he told me I need not be so shy, to acknowledge myself to him; he knew I was the Devil; but he had learned so much civility, as not to press his Friend to a farrher discovery than he was pleased, I should see I had to do with a Gentleman; and any Courtesy I should confer on him he would not be unthankful; for he hated ingratitude of all things.  Const. 
'Twas well carried not to disabuse him: I laugh to think what sport I shall have anon, when I convince him of his lies, and let him know I was the Devil to whom he was beholding for his Money: go Setstone; and in the same disguise be ready for him.  (Exit. Setstone. Isa. 
How dare you trust this fellow?  Const. 
I must trust some body; gain has made him mine, and now fear will keep him faithful.  To them, By'r, Failer, Timorous, Trice, Nonsuch. Fail. 
Pray, my Lord, take no picque at it: 'tis not given to all men to be confident: Igad you shall see Sir Timorous will redeem all upon the next occasion.  Non. 
A raw mieking Boy.  Isa. 
And what are you but an old Boy of five and fifty; I never knew any thing so homorsome.— I warrant you, Sir Timorous, I'll speak for you.  Non. 
Wouldst thou have me be friends with him! for thy sake he shall only add five hundred a year to her Jointure, and I'll be satisfied: come you hither, Sir.  Here Trice and Nonsuch and I imorous, talk privately; Burr with Failer apart; Constance with. Isabelle. Const. 
You'll not find your account in this trick to get Failer beaten; 'tis too palpable and open.  Isa. 
I warrant you 'twill pass upon Burr for a time: so my revenge, and your interest will go on together.  Fail. 
Burr, there's mischief a brewing, I know it by their whispering I vow to gad: look to yourself, their designs on you; for my part I am a person that am above 'em.  Tim. 
to Trice: But than you must speak for me Mr. Trice; and you too my Lord.  Non. 
If you deny't again, I'll beat you; look to't Boy.  Trice. 
Come on; I'll make the bargain.  Isa. 
You were ever good in a Flesh Market.  Trice. 
Come you little Harlotry; What satisfaction can you give me for running away before the Ruffs came in?  Const. 
Why I left you to 'em, that ever invite your own belly to the greatest part of all your feasts.  Trice. 
I have brought you a Knight here Huswife, with a plentiful Fortune to furnish out a Table; and, What would you more? Would you be an angel in Heaven?  Isab. 
Your minds ever upon your belly.  Trice. 
No; 'tis sometimes upon yours: but, What sayest thou to Sir Timirous, little Constance?  Const. 
Would you have me married to that King Midas Face?  Trice. 
Midas' me no Midas; he's a Wit; he understands eating and drinking well: Poeta coquus, the heathen Philosopher, could tell you that.  Const. 
Come on Sir; What's your will with me?  (Laughs) Tim. 
Why Madam, I could only wish we were a little better acquainted, that we might not laugh at one another so.  Const. 
If the Fool puts forward I am undone.  Tim. 
Fool! Do you know me Madam?  Const. 
You may see I know you, because I call you by your name.  Fail. 
You must endure these rebukes with patience, Sir Timorous.  Const. 
What, are you Planet stroke? Look you, my Lord, the Gentleman is Tongue-tied.  Non. 
This is passed enduring.  Fail. 
'Tis nothing, my Lord; Courage, Sir Timorous.  Non. 
I say 'tis past enduring; that's more than ever I told you yet: Do you come to make a fool of my Daughter?  Isa. 
Why Lord—  Non. 
Why Lady—  (Exit Nonsuch. Trice. 
Let's follow the old Man, and pacify him.  Isa. 
Now Cousin—  Exeunt Isabelle, Trice, Burr. Const. 
Well Mr. Failer, I did not think you of all the rest would have endeavoured a thing so much against my inclination, as this Marriage: if you had been acquainted with my heart, I am sure you would not.  Fail. 
What can the meaning of this be? you would not have me believe you love me; and yet how otherwise to understand you I vow to gad I cannot comprehend.  Const. 
I did not say I loved you, but if I should take a fancy to your Person and Humour: I hope it is no Crime to tell it you: Women are tied to hard unequal Laws: the passion is the same in us, and yet we are debarred the freedom to express it. You make poor Grecian beggars of us Ladies; our desires must have no language; but only be fastened to our breasts.  Fail. 
Come, come; I gad I know the whole Sex of you: your Love's at best but a kind of blind-mans-buff, catching at him that's next in your way.  Const. 
Well Sir, I can take nothing ill from you; when 'tis too late you'll see how unjust you have been to me.— I have said too much already.—  (is going.) Fail. 
Nay, stay sweet Madam: I vow to gad my fortunes better than I could imagine.  Const. 
No, pray let me go, Sir; perhaps I was in jest.  Fail. 
Really Madam, I look upon you as a person of such worth and all that, that I Vow to gad I honour you of all persons in the World; and though I am a person that am inconsiderable in the World, and all that Madam, yet for a person of your worth and excellency, I would—  Const. 
What would you, Sir?  Fail. 
Sacrifice my life and fortunes, I vow to gad, Madam.  Enter Isabelle, Burr, and Timorous at a distance from them. Isa. 
There's Failer close in Talk with my Cousin; he's soliciting your suit, I warrant you, Sir Timorous: do but observe with what passion he courts for you.  Burr, 
I do not like that kneading of her hand though.  Isa. 
Come, you are such a jealous Coxcomb: I warrant you suspect there's some amour between 'em; there can be nothing in't it is so open: pray observe.  Burr. 
But, How come you so officious, Madam; you, that e'er now had a design upon Sir Timorous for you self?  Isa. 
I thought you had a better opinion of my Wit, than to think I was in earnest. My Cousin may do what she pleases, but he shall never pin himself upon me assure him.  Const. to Fail. 
Sir Timorous little knows how dangerous a person he has employed in making love:—  (aloud) Burr. 
How's this! Pray my Lady Constance, what's the meaning of that you say to Failer?  Fail. 
What luck was this, that he should overhear you! pax on't!  Const. 
Mr. Burr, I own you not that satisfaction; what you have heard you may interpret as you please.  Tim. 
The Rascal has betrayed me.  Isa. 
In earnest, Sir, I do not like it.  Fail. 
Dear Mr. Burr. be pacified; you are a person I have an honour for; and this change of Affairs shall not be the worse for you I gad Sir.  Const. 
Bear up resolutely Mr. Failer; and maintain my Favours, as becomes my servant.  Burr. 
He maintain 'em! go you Judas! I'll teach you what 'tis to play fast and lose with a Man of War  (Kicks him. Tim. 
Lay it on Burr.  Isa. 
Spare him not, Burr.  Const. 
Fear him not, Servant.  Fail. 
Oh, oh; would not body were on my side; here I am praised I vow to gad into all the Colours of the Rainbow.  Const. 
But, remember 'tis for me.  Burr. 
As you like this, proceed, Sir; but, come not near me to night, while I'm in wrath.  (Exeunt Burr and Timorous. Const. 
Come, Sir; How far you after your sore Trial: you bore it with a most heroic patience.  Isa. 
Brave man at Arms, but weak to Balthazer!  Fail. 
I hope to gad, Madam, you'll consider the merit of my sufferings: I would not have been beaten thus, but to obey that person in the World—  Const. 
Heaven reward you for't: I never shall.  Fail. 
How Madam!  Isa. 
Art thou such an Ass as not to perceive thou art abused: this beating I contrived for you: you know upon what acount; and have yet another or two at your service: yield up the Knight in time, 'tis your best course.  Fail, 
Then, Does not your Ladyship Love me Madam?  Const. 
Yes, yes; I love to see you beaten.  Isa. 
Well, methinks now you have had a hard bargain on't: you have lost your Cully, Sir Timorous; and your Friend Burr, and all to get a poor beating: but I'll see it mended against next time for you.  (Exeunt Constance, Isabelle Laughing. Fail. 
I am so much amazed, I vow to gad, I do not understand my own condition.  (Exit Failer. Enter Loveby solus in the dark; his Sword drawn; groping out his way.— Loveby. 
This is the time and place he appointed me; and 'tis certainly the Devil I am to meet; for no mortal creature could have that kindness for me, to supply my necessities as he has done, nor could have done it in so strange a manner: he told me he was a Scholar, and had been a Parson in the fanatics times; a shrewd suspicion it was the Devil; or at least a limb of him. If the Devil can send Churchmen on his Errands, Lord have mercy on the Laity! well. let every man speak as he finds, and give the Devil his due; I think him a very honest and well-natured fellow: and if I hear any man speak ill of him, (except it be a Parson that gets his living by it) I wear a Sword at his Service: yet for all this I do not much care to see him. He does not mean to hook me in for my Soul, Does he if he does, I shall desire to be excused. But what a Rogue am I, to suspect a person that has dealt so like a Gentleman by me? he comes to bring me Money, and would do it handsomely, that it might not be perceived: let it be as 'twill, I'll seem to trust him, and then if he have any thing of a Gentleman in him, he will scorn to deceive me, as much as I would to cousin him, if I were the Devil, and he Jack Loveby.  Enter Failer at t'other end of the Stage. Fail. 
What will become of me to night! I am just in the condition of an out-lying-Deere, that's beaten from his walk for offering to 〈◊〉: Enter I dare not for Burr.  Lov. 
I hear a voice, but nothing do I see; speak what thou art.  Fail. 
There he is, watching for me: I must venture to run by him; and when I am in, I hope my Cousin Trice will defend me: the Devil would not lie abroad in such a night.  Lov. 
I thought it was the Devil before he named himself.  [Failer goes to run off and falls into Loveby's arms. Lov. 
Honest Satan! well encountered! I am sorry with all my heart it is so dark: I'faith I should be very glad to see thee at my Lodging; prithee let's not be such strangers to one another for the time to come; and, What hast thou got under thy Cloak there little Satan; I warrant thou hast brought me some more Money.  Fail. 
Help; help; Thief's, thiefs.  [Loveby lets him go. Lov. 
This is Failers' voice: How the Devil was I mistaken! I must get off, e'er Company comes in.  (Exit Loveby, Fail. 
Thiefs! Thiefs!  Enter Trice, Burr, Timorous, undressed. All: 
Where! where!  Fail. 
One was here just now; and it should be Loveby by his voice, but I have no Witness.  Trice. 
It cannot be; he wants no Money.  Burr. 
Come, Sirrah; I'll take pity on you to night; you shall lie in the Truckle-bed.  Trice, 
Pox o' this noise, it has disturbed me from such a Dream of Eating!  EXEUNT OMNES.   

ACT. III.  
Constance, Isabelle.  Const. 
'TWas ill luck to have the meeting broke last night, just as Setstone was coming towards him.  Isa. 
But in part of recompense you'll have the pleasure of putting him on farther straits, O, these little mischiefs are meat and drink to me.  Const. 
He shall tell me from whence he has his Money: I am resolved now to try him to the utmost.  Isa. 
I would devise something for him to do, which he could not possibly perform.  Const. 
As I live yonder he comes with the Jewel in his hand he promised me; prithee leave me alone with him.  Isa. 
Speed the Plough; if I can make no sport I'll hinder none: I'll to my Knight, Sir Timirous; shortly you shall hear news from Damaetas.  Exit Isabelle. Enter Loveby. Lov. 
Look you Madam, here's the Jewel; do me the favour to accept it, and suppose a very good Compliment delivered with it.  Const. 
Believe me a very fair Jewel: but, Why will you be at this needless charge? What acknowledgement do you expect? you know I will not Marry you.  Lov. 
How the Devil do I know that; I do not conceive myself under correction, so inconsiderable a person.  Const. 
You'll alter your partial opinion, when I tell you 'tis not a flash of wit fires me; nor is it a gay outside can seduce me to Matrimony.  Lov. 
I am neither Fool, nor deformed so much as to be despicable. What do I want?  Const. 
A good Estate, that makes every thing handsome; nothing can look well without it.  Lov. 
Does this Jewel express poverty?  Const. 
I conjure you by your love to me, tell me one truth not minced by your invention: How came you by this Jewel.  Lov. 
'Tis well I have a Voucher; pray ask your own Jeweller Setstone, if I did not buy it of him.  Const. 
How glad you are now, you can tell a truth so near a lie: but, Where had you the Money that purchased it? come,— without circumstances and preambles—  Lov. 
Umh,— perhaps that may be a secret.  Const. 
Say it be one; yet he that loved indeed, could not keep it from his Mistress.  Lov. 
Why should you be thus importunate?  Const. 
Because I cannot think you love me, if you will not trust that to my knowledge, which you conceal from all the World beside.  Lov. 
You urge me deeply—  Const. 
Come, sweet Servant, you shall tell me; I am resolved to take no denial: Why do you sigh?  Leu. 
If I be blasted it must out.  Const. 
Either tell me, or resolve to take your leave for ever.  Lov. 
Then know I have my means; I know not how.  Const. 
This is a fine secret.  Lov. 
Why then if you will needs know; 'tis from the Devil; I have Money from him, what, and when I please.  Const. 
Have you sealed a Covenant, and given away your Soul for Money?  Lov. 
No such thing intended on my part.  Const. 
How then?  Lov. 
I know not yet what conditions he'll propose: I should have spoke with him last night, but that a cross chance hindered it.  Const. 
Well, my opinion is, some great Lady that is in love with you, supplies you still; and you tell me an incredible Tale of the Devil, merely to shadow your infidelity.  Lov. 
Devise some means to try me.  Const. 
I take you at your word; you shall swear freely to bestow on me, what ever you shall gain this unknown-way; and for a proof, because you tell me you can have Money, what and when you please; bring me an hundred pounds e'er night: [If I do marry him for a Wit] I'll see what he can do; he shall have none from me.  (aside. Lov. 
You overjoy me, Madam; you shall have it, and 'twere twice as much.  Const. 
How's this!  Lov. 
The Devil a cross that I have; or know where to get; but I must promise well to save my credit: now Devil, if thou dost forsake me!  (aside. Const. 
I mistrust you; and therefore if you fail, I'll have your hand to show against you; here's ink and paper  Loveby Writes, Enter Burr and Timorous. Bur. 
What makes Loveby yonder? he's Writing somewhat.  Tim. 
I'll go see.—  (Looks over him.) Lov. 
Have you no more manners then to overlook a man when he's a Writing?— Oh, Is't you Sir Timorous? you may stand still; now I think on't you can not read Written hand.  Bur. 
You are very familiar with Sir Timorous.  Lov. 
So I am with his Companions Sir.  Bur. 
Then there's hopes you and I may be better acquainted: I am one of his Companions.  Lov. 
By what title, as you are an Ass Sir.  Const. 
No more Loveby.—  Lov. 
I need not Madam; alas this fellow is only the Solicitor of a quarrel, till he has brought it to an head; and I will leave the fight part to the Courteous pledger. Do not I know these fellows? you shall as soon persuade a Mastiff to fasten on a Lion, as one of these to engage with a courage above their own: they know well enough who they can beat, and who can beat them.  Enter Failer at a distance. Fail 
Yonder they are; now would I compound for a reasonable sum, that I were Friends with Burr: if I am not, I shall lose Sir Timorous.  Const. 
O, Servant, have I spied you! let me run into your Arms.  Fail. 
I renounce my Lady Constance: I vow to gad I renounce her.  Tim. 
To your Task, Burr.  Enter Nonsuch and Isabelle. Const. 
Hold, Gentlemen; no sign of quarrel!  Non. 
O Friends! I think I shall go mad with grief: I have lost more Money.  Lov. 
Would I had it: that's all the harm I wish myself: your Servant, Madam; I go about the business.—  Exit. Loveby. Non. 
What! Does he take no pity on me?  Const. 
Prithee moan him Isabelle.  Isa. 
Alas, alas poor Nuncle! could they find in their hearts to rob him!  Non. 
Five hundred pounds out of poor six thousand pounds a year! I and mine are undone for ever.  Fail. 
Your own House you think is clear, my Lord?  Const. 
I dare answer for all there, as much as for myself.  Burr. 
Oh that he would but think that Loveby had it!  Fail. 
If you'll be friends with me, I'll try what I can persuade him to.  Burr. 
Here's my hand, I will dear heart.  Fail. 
Your own House being clear, my Lord; I am apt to suspect this Loveby for such a person: Did you mark how abruptly he went out?  Non. 
He did indeed, Mr. Failer: but, why should I suspect him? his carriage is fair, and his means great: he could never live after this rate if it were not.  Fail. 
This still renders him the more suspicious: he has no land to my knowledge.  Bur. 
Well said mischief—  (aside. Const. 
My Father's credulous, and this Rogue has found the blind-side of him; would Loveby heard him!—  (to Isab. Fail. 
He has no Means, and he loses at Play: so that for my part, I protest to gad, I am resolved, he picks Locks for his Living.  Bur. 
Nay, to my Knowledge, he picks Locks.  Tim. 
And to mine.  Fail. 
No longer ago than last night he met me in the dark, and offered to dive into my Pockets.  Non. 
That's a main argument for suspicion.  Fail. 
I remember once when the Keys of the Exchequer were lost in the Rump-time, he was sent for upon an extremity, and I gad he opens me all the Locks with the Blade-bone of a Breast of Mutton.  Non. 
Who, this Loveby;  Fail. 
This very Loveby: Another time, when we had sat up very late at Ombre in the Country, and were hungry towards morning, he plucks me out, I vow to gad I tell you no lie, four ten-pennyNailes from the Dairy-Lock with his teeth, fetches me out a Mess of Milk; and knocks me 'em in again with his Head, upon Reputation.  Isa. 
Thou Boy!  Non. 
What shall I do in this case? my comfort is, my Gold's all marked.  Const. 
Will you suspect a Gentleman of Loveby's worth, upon the bare report of such a Rascal as this Failer?  Non. 
Hold thy tongue, I charge thee; upon my blessing hold thy tongue, I'll have him apprehended before he sleeps; come along with me, Mr. Failer.  Fail. Bur. 
Look well to Sir Timorous; I'll be with you instantly.  Const. 
I'll watch you, by your favour.  (aside.) Exeunt Nonsuch, Failer, Constance following them Isa. 
A word, Sir Timorous.  Bur. 
She shall have a course at the Knight, and come [Gets behind. up to him, but when she is just ready to pinch he shall give such a lose from her, shall break her heart.  Isa. 
Burr there still, and watching us? there's certainly some Plot in this, but I'll turn it to my own advantage.  (aside. Tim. 
Did you mark Burrs retirement, Madam?  Isa. 
I; his guilt it seems makes him shun your company.  Tim. 
In what can he be guilty?  Isa. 
You must needs know it; he Courts your Mistress.  Tim. 
Is he too, in love with my Lady Constance?  Isa. 
No, no; but which is worse, he Courts me.  Tim. 
Why, what have I to do with you? you know I care not this for you.  Isa. 
Perhaps so; but he thought you did: and good reason he had for it.  Tim. 
What reason, Madam?  Isa. 
The most convincing in the World: he knew my Cousin Constance never loved you: he has heard her say, you were as invincibly ignorant as a Town-fop judging a new Play: as shame faced as a great overgrown Schoolboy: in fine, good for nothing but to be wormed out of your estate, and Sacrificed to the god of Laughter.  Tim. 
Was your Cousin so barbarous to say this?  Isab. 
In his hearing.  Tim. 
And would he let me proceed in my suit to her?  Isa. 
For that I must excuse him; he never thought you could love one of my Cousin's humour: but took your Court to her, only as a blind to your affection for me: and being possessed with that opinion, he thought himself as worthy as you to marry me.  Tim. 
He is not half so worthy; and so I'll tell him, in a fair way.  Burr to a Boy entering. 
Sirrah Boy, deliver this Note to Madam Isabelle; but be not known I am so near.  Boy. 
I warrant you, Sir.  Bur. 
Now fortune all I desire of thee, is, that Sir Timorous may see it; if he once be brought to believe there is a kindness between her and me, it will ruin all her Projects.  Isa. 
To the Boy. From whom!  Boy. 
From Mr. Burr, Madam.  Isabelle reads. 
These for Madam Isabelle.  
Dear Rogue.  
Sir Timorous knows nothing of our kindness, nor shall for me; seem still to have designs upon him; it will hid thy affection the better to thy Servant Burr.  Isa. 
Alas poor Woodcock, dost thou go a birding: thou hast e'en set a Springe to catch thy own neck: look you here Sir Timorous; here's something to confirm what I have told you.  Gives him the Letter. Tim. 
D, e, a, re, dear, r, oh, g, u, e, ro-gue. Pray Madam read it: this written hand is such a damned pedantic thing I could never away with it.  Isa. 
He would fain have rob you of me: Lord, Lord! to see the malice of a man.  Tim. 
She has persuaded me so damnably, that I begin to think she's my Mistress indeed.  Isab. 
Your Mistress? why I hope you are not to doubt that at this time of day. I was your Mistress from the first day you ever saw me.  Tim. 
Nay, like enough you were so; but I vow to gad now, I was wholly ignorant of my own affection.  Isa. 
And this Rogue pretends he has an interest in me merely to defeat you: look you, look you where he stands in ambush, like a Jesuit behind a Quaker, to see how his design will take.  Tim. 
I see the Rogue: now could I find in my heart to marry you in spite to him; what think you on't in a fair way?  Isab. 
I have brought him about as I would wish; and now I'll make my own conditions (aside) Sir Timorous, I wish you well; but he I marry must promise me to live at London: I cannot abide to be in the Country, like a wild beast in the wilderness, with no Christian Soul about me.  Tim. 
Why I'll bear you company.  Isa. 
I cannot endure your early hunting matches there; to have my sleep disturbed by break of day, with heigh Jowler Jowler, there Venus, ah Beauty! and then a serenade of deep mouthed curs, to answer the salutation of the Huntsman, as if hell were broke lose about me: and all this to meet a pack of Gentlemen Savages to ride all day like mad men, for the immortal fame of being first in at the Hare's death: to come upon the spur after a trail at four in the afternoon to destruction of cold meat and cheese, with your lewd company in boots; fall a drinking till Supper time, be carried to bed, roped out of your Seller, and be good for nothing all the night after.  Tim. 
Well, Madam, what is it you would be at? you shall find me reasonable to all your propositions.  Isa. 
I have but one condition more to add; for I will be as reasonable as you, and that is a very poor request, to have all the money in my disposing.  Tim. 
How, all the Money?  Isa. 
I, for I am sure I can huswife it better for your honour; not but that I shall be willing to encourage you with pocket money, or so sometimes.  Tim. 
This is somewhat hard.  Isa. 
Nay, if a woman cannot do that, I shall think you have an ill opinion of my virtue: not trust your own flesh and blood, Sir Timorous.  Tim. 
Well, is there any thing more behind?  Isa. 
Nothing more only the choice of my own company, my own hours, and my own actions: these trifles granted me, in all things of moment, I am your most obedient Wife and Servant Isabelle.  Tim. 
Is't a match then?  Isa. 
For once I am content it shall; but 'tis to redeem you from those Kascals' Burr. and Failer.— that way Sir Timorous, for fear of Spies; I'll meet you at the Garden door.—  Exit Isa. Sola. 
I have led all women the way, if they dare but follow me; and now march off, if I can scape but spying, with my Drums beating, and my Colours flying.  Exit Isa. Burr. 
So their wooings at an end; thanks to my wit.  Enter Failer. Fail. 
Oh Burr! whither it is Sir Timorous and Madam Isabelle are gone together?  Bur. 
Adore my wit, boy; they are parted never to meet again.  Fail. 
I saw 'em meet just now at the Garden door: so ho, ho, ho: who's within there: help here quickly, quickly.  Enter Nonsuch and two Servants. Nons. 
What's the matter?  Fail. 
Your Niece Isabelle has stolen away Sir Timorous.  Nons. 
Which way took they?  Fail. 
Fellow me, I'll show you.  Nons. 
Break your necks after him, you idle Varlets.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Loveby: Loveby's Collar unbuttoned, Band carelessly on, Hat on the Table, as new rising from sleep. Lov. 
Boy! how long have I slept boy?  Enter Boy. Boy. 
Two hours and a half Sir.  Lov. 
What's a clock Sirrah?  Boy. 
Near four Sir.  Lov. 
Why there's it: I have promised my Lady Constance an hundred pounds e'er night; I had four hours to perform it in when I engaged to do it; and I have slept out more than two of them: all my hope to get this money lies within the compass of that hat there.— before I lay down I made bold a little to prick my finger, and write a note in the blood of it, to this same friend of mine in tother world, that uses to supply me, the Devil has now had above two hours to perform it in; all which time I have slept to give him the better opportunity: time enough for a Gentleman of his agility to fetch it from the East-Indies, out of one of his Temples where they worship him; or if he were lazy, and not minded to go so far; 'twere but stepping over sea, and borrowing so much money, out of his own Bank at Amsterdam! hang't, what's an hundred pounds between him and me.— Now does my heart go pit a pat, for fear I should not find the money there: I would fain lift it up to see, and yet I am so afraid of missing: yet a plague, why should I fear h'll fail me; the name of friend's a sacred thing; sure he'll consider that:— methinks this Hat looks as if it should have something under it: if one could see the yellow boys peeping underneath the brims now: ha'! (looks under round about) in my conscience I think I do: stand out oth'way sirrah, and be ready to gather up the pieces that will flush out of the hat as I take it up.  Boy. 
What is my Master mad trow.  Loveby 
Snatches up the hat, looks in it hastily, and sees nothing but the paper.  
Now the Devil take the Devil: ah plague! was ever man served so as I am: (throws his hat upon the ground) to break the bonds of Amity for 100 pieces: well, it shall be more out of thy way than thou imagin'st, Devil: I'll turn Parson, and be at open defiance with thee; I'll lay the wickedness of all people upon thee though thou art never so innocent; I'll convert thy Bawdsand Whores; I'll Hector thy Gamesters, that they shall not dare to swear, curse or bubble; nay, I'll set thee out so, that thy very Usurers and Aldermen shall fear to have to do with thee.  [a noise within of Isabelle and Frances. Enter Frances, thrusting back Isabelle and Timorous. Fran. 
How now what's the matter?  Isa. 
Nay, sweet Mistress, be not so hardhearted; all I desire of you is but harbour for a minute: you cannot in humanity deny that small succour to a Gentlewoman.  Fran. 
A Gentlewoman! I thought so, my house affords no harbour for Gentlewomen: you are a company of proud Hallottries; I'll teach you to take place of Tradesmen's Wives with a wannion to you.  Lov. 
How's this Madam Isabelle.  Isa. 
Mr. Loveby! how happy am Into meet with you in my distress!  Lov. 
What's the matter Madam?  Isa 
Ill tell you, if this Gentlewoman will give me leave.  Franc. 
No Gentlewoman, I will not give you leave; they are such as we maintain your pride, as they say. Our Husbands trust you, and you must go before their Wives, I am sure my Goodman never goes to any of your Lodgings but he comes home the worse for it, as they say.  Isabelle Loveby whispers. Lov. 
Is that all! prithee good Landlady, for my sake entertain my friends.  Franc. 
If the Gentleman's Worship had come alone, it may be I might have entertained him; but for your Minion!  Enter Nonsuch, Failer, Burr, and Officers: cry within, here, here. Fail. 
My Lord, arrest Sir Timorous upon a promise of marriage to you Daughter, and we'll witness it.  Timor. 
Why, what a strange thing of you's this Madam Isabelle, to bring a man into trouble thus!  Fail. 
You are not yet married to her;  Tim. 
Not that I remember.  Isabelle. 
Well Failer, I shall find a time to reward your diligence.  Lov. 
If the Knight would have owned his action, I should have taught some of you more manners, then to come with Officers into my Lodging.  Franc. 
I'm glad with all my heart this Minx is prevented of her design: the Gentleman had got a great catch of her as they say. His old Father in the Country would have given him but little thank for't, to see him bring down a fine bred Woman, with a Lute, and a Dressing-box, and a handful of money to her portion.  Isa. 
Good Mistress Whatdeelack! I know your quarrel to the Ladies, do they take up the Gallants from the Tradesmen's wives? Lord, what a grievous thing it is for a she-Citizen to be forced to have Children by her own Husband!  Fran. 
Come, come, you're a slanderful huswife, and I squorn your hallottry trick that I do, so I do.  Isa. 
Steeple-hat your Husband never gets a good look when he comes home, except he brings a Gentleman to Dinner; who if he casts an amorous eye towards you; then, trust him good Husband, sweet Husband trust him for my sake: verily the Gentleman's an honest man, I read it in his countenance: and if you should not be at home to receive the Money, I know he will pay the debt to me. Is't not so Mistress?  Enter Bibber in Slippers, with a skein of Silk a bout his neck. Franc. 
Will you see me wronged thus, under my own roof, as they say, William?  Isa. 
Nay, 'tis very true Mistress: you let the men with old compliments take up new clothes: I do not mean your Wives clothes Mr. Merchant- Tailor.  Bib. 
Good i'faith! a notable smart Gentlewoman!  Isa. 
Look to your Wife, Sir, or in time she may undo your Trade: for she'll get all your men-Customers to herself.  Bibb. 
And I should be hanged, I can forbear no longer.  He plucks out his Measure, and runs to Isabelle. to take measure of her. Isa. 
How now! what means Prince Pericles by this?  
Bibber on his knees.  
I must beg your Ladyship e'en to have the honour to trust you but for your Gown, for the sake of that last jest. Flowered Satin, wrought Tabby, Silver upon any grounds: I shall run mad if I may not trust your Ladyship.  Franc. 
I think you are mad already, as they say, William: you shall not trust her.— plucks him back.  Bib. 
Let me alone Frances; I am a Lion when I am angered.  Isa. 
Pray do not pull your Lion by the tail so Mistress.— In these clothes that he now takes measure of me for, will I marry Sir Timorous, mark that, and tremble Failer.  Fail. 
Never threaten me Madam, you're a person a despise.  Isa. 
I vow to gad I'll be even with you Sir.  Exit Isabelle. Nonsuch to the Bailiffs. 
— And when you have arrested him, be sure you search him for my gold.  Bailiffs to Loveby. 
We arrest you Sir at my Lord Nonsuch his Suit.  Lov. 
Me you Rascals!  Nons. 
Search him for my gold; you know the marks on't.  Lov. 
If they can find any marked or unmarked gold about me; they'll find more than I can. You expect I should resist now; no, no, I'll hamper you for this.—  Bail. 
There's nothing to be found about him.  Fail. 
'Tis no matter, to prison with him; there all his debts will come upon him.  Lov. 
What hurried to durance like a Stinkard!  Bib. 
Now as I live a pleasant Gentleman; I could find in my heart to bail him; but I'll overcome myself, and steal away.  (is going. Bail. 
Come, Sir, we must provide you of another Lodging; but I believe you'll scarce like it.  Lov. 
If I do not, I ask no favour; pray turn me out of doors.  Bib. 
Turn him out of door! What a jest was there? Now and I should be hanged I cannot forbear Bayling him: stay Officers; I Bail him Body and Soul for that Jest.  Fail. 
Let us be gone in time, Burr.  [Exeunt Burr, Failer, Timorous. Franc. 
You shall not Bail him.  Bib. 
I know I am a Rogue to do it; but his Wit has prevailed upon me, and a man must not go against his Conscience. There Officers—  Lov. to Non. 
Old Man, if it were not for thy Daughter.—  Non. 
Well, well; take your course, Sir.  [Exit Nonsuch and Bailiffs. Lov. 
Come Will. I ll thank thee at the Tavern. Frances, remember this the next time you come up to make my Bed.  Franc. 
Do your worst, I fear you not, Sir. This is twice to day, William; to trust a Gentlewoman, and Bail a Ragamuffin: I am sure he called you Cuckold but yesterday, and said he would make you one.  Lov. 
Look you Frances, I am a man of Honour, and if I said it, I'll not break my word with you.  Bib. 
There he was with you again, Frances: an excellent good jest I'faith la.  Fran. 
I'll not endure it, that I won't, so I won't: I'll go to the Justice's Worship and fetch a Warrant for him.  Lov. 
But Landlady, the word Cuckold will bear no Action in the Law, except you could prove your Husband prejudiced by it. Have any of his Customers forsook him for't? or, any Mercer refused to trust him the less, for my calling him so.  Franc. 
Nay, I know not for the Mercers; perhaps the Citizens may take it for no slander among one another, as they say; but for the Gentlemen—  Lov. 
Will, Have they forsaken thee upon it?  Bib. 
No, I assure you, Sir.  Lov. 
No, I warrant 'em: a Cuckold has the signification of an honest wellmeaning Citizen; one that is not given to jealousies or suspicions; a just person to his Wife, etc. one that to speak the worst of him, does but to her, what he would be content should be done to her by other men.  Franc. 
But that another man should be the Father of his Children, as they say; I don't think that a civil thing Husband.  Lov. 
Not civil, Landlady! Why all things are civil that are made so by Custom.  Bib. 
Why may not he get as fine Children as I, or any man?  Fran. 
But if those Children, that are none of yours, should call you Father, William!  Bib. 
If they call me Father, and are none of mine; I am the more beholding to 'em.  Fran. 
Nay, if that be your humour, husband, I am glad I know it, that I may please you the better another time, as they say.  (Exit Frances. Bib. 
Nay, but Frances, Frances; 'tis such another woman.  Exit Bibber. Lov. 
'Tis such another Man:— My Coat and Sword Boy, I must go to Justice Trices; bring the Women, and come after me.  (Exit Loveby.  

ACT. IU.  Table set with Cards upon it. Trice walking: Enter Servant. Seru. 
SIr, some Company is without upon Justice-business.  Trice. 
Saucy Rascal, to disturb my Meditations.  Fxit Servant. 
— I, it shall be he: Jack Loveby, what thinkest thou of a Game of Picquet, we two, hand' to fist! you and I will play one single Game for ten pieces: 'tis deep stake Jack, but, 'tis all one between us two: you shall Deal Jack: who I, Mr. Justice, that's a good one, you must give me use for your hand then; that's six i'th' hundred? Come, lift, lift; mines a ten; Mr. Justice:— mine's a King, oh ho, Jack, you Deal. I have the advantage of this I'faith, if I can keep it.  
He Deals 12 a piece; 2 by 2.  
And looks on his own Cards.  
I take seven, and look on this— Now for you Jack Loveby.  Enter Loveby behind. Lov. 
How's this? am I the man he fights with?  Trice. 
I'll do you right Jack; as I am an honest Man you must discard this, there's no other way: if you were my own Brother I could do no better for you.— Zounds, the Rogue has a Quint-Major, and three Aceses younger hand.—  
Looks on t'other Cards.  
Stay; what am I for the Point? but bore Forty, and he Fifty one: Fifteen and Five for the Point, 20, and 3 by Aceses, 23. well, I am to play first: 1.23. 2. 23. 3. 23. 4. 23.— Pox on't, now I must play into his hand: 5— now you take it Jack, 5. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. and the Cards Forty.  Lov. 
Hitherto it goes well on my side.—  Trice. 
Now I Deal: How many do you take Jack? All? then I am gone: What a rise is here! 14 by Aceses, and a Sixieme Major: I am gone, without looking into my Cards.— I, I thought so: If ever Man Played with such cursed Fortune, I'll be hanged, and all for want of this damned Ace— there's your ten pieces, with a Pox to you, for a Rooking beggarly Rascal as you are.  Takes up an Ace and bites it. Loveby Enters. Lov. 
What occasion have I given you for these words, Sir? Rook and Rascal! I am no more Rascal than yourself, Sir.  Trice. 
How's this, how's this!  Lov. 
And though for this time I put it up, because I am a winner.  (Snatches the Gold. Trice. 
What a Devil do'ft thou put up? not my Gold I hope Jack?  Lov. 
By your favour but I do; and 'twas won fairly; a Sixieme, and Fourteen by Aceses by your own confession.— What a Pox we don't make children's Play I hope?  Trice. 
Well, remember this, Jack; from this hour I forswear playing with you when I am alone; What, Will you bate me nothing on't?  Lov. 
Not a farthing, Justice: I'll be Judged by you, if I had lost you would have taken every piece on't: what I win, I win.— and there's an end.  Enter Servant. Seru. 
Sir, these People stay without, and will not be answered.  Trice. 
Well, What's their business?  Seru. 
Nay, no great matter: only a Fellow for getting a Wench with Child.  Trice. 
No great matter sayest thou; I'faith but it is: is he a poor fellow, or a Gentleman?  Seru. 
A very poor fellow, Sir.  Trice, 
Hang him, Rogue, make his Mittimus immediately; must such as he presume to get Children?  Lov. 
Well considered: a poor lousy Rascal, to entrench upon the Game of Gentlemen! he might have passed his time at Ninepins, or Shovel-board, that had been fit sport for such as he; Justice, have no Mercy on him.  Trice. 
No, by the Sword of Justice will I not.  Lov. 
Swearest thou, ungracious Boy? that's too much on t'other hand for a Gentleman. I Swear not, I drink not, I curse not, I Cheat not; they are unnecessary Vices: I save so much out of those Sins, and take it out in that one necessary Vice of Wenching.  Enter Loveby's Boy. Boy. 
Sir the Parties are without according to your order.  Lov. 
'Tis well; bring 'em in Boy.  Enter Lady Du Lake, and two or three Whores. 
Justice I recommend this ancient Gentlewoman, with these virtuous Ladies, to thy Patronage; for her part, she is a person of exemplary life and behaviour, of singular conduct to break through, and patience to bear the assaults of Fortune: a general Benefactress of Mankind, and in fine, a promoter of that great Work of Nature, Love.  Trice. 
Or, as the Vulgar Translation hath it, a very sufficient, and singular good-Bawd: Is't not so Boy?  Lov. 
I, Boy: Now for such a pettifogging Fellow as thy Clerk to persecute this Lady; prithee think on't: 'tis a grievance of the Free-born-Subject.  L. Dulake. 
To see the ingratitude of this Generation! I that have spent my youth, set at nought my Fortune, and what is more dear to me, my honour, in the service of Gentlemen; should now in my old age be left to want and beggary, as if I were the vilest, and most unworthy creature upon God's Earth.  (crying.) Lov. 
Nay, good Mother, do not take it so bitterly.  L. Dulake. 
I confess the unkindness of it troubles me.  Lov. 
Thou shalt not want so long as I live: look, here's five pieces of Cordial Gold to comfort thy heart with, I won it e'en now of Mr. Justice; and I dare say he thinks it well bestowed.  Trice. 
My Money's gone to very pious uses.  L. Dulake, 
(Laying her hand on Lovebyes' head.)  Son Loveby, 
I knew thy Father well; and thy Grandfather before him; Fathers they were both to me; and I could weep for joy to see how thou tak'st after them. (Weeping again) I wish it lay in my power too, to gratify this worthy Justice in my Vocation.  Trice. 
I'faith I doubt I am past that noble Sin.  Lov. 
Prithee good Magistrate drink to her, and wipe sorrow from her eyes.  Trice. 
Right Reverend, my Service to you in Canary.  (She Drinks after him) and stays at half-Glass. L. Dulake. 
'Tis a great way to the bottom; but Heaven is alsufficient to give me strength for it:—  (Drinks it up.) 
Why Gods blessing on your heart, Son Trice. I hope 'tis no offence to call you Son: Him, him! Son Loveby, I think my Son Trice and I are much of the same years: let me see Son if Nature be utterly extinct in you: are you ticklish, Son Trice?  (tickles him.) Trice. 
Are you Ticklish Mother Dulake.  (Tickles her sides.) She falls off her Chair; he falls off his to her; they roll one over the other. Lov. 
I would have all London now show me such another sight of kindness in Old Age:  (they help each other up.) 
Come, a Dance, a dance; call for your Clerk, Justice, he shall make one in sign of Amity:  (Strike up Fiddlers.) (They Dance around Dance, and Sing the Tune.) Enter Isabelle and Constance. Isa. 
Are you at that Sport, I'faith? have among you blind Harpers:  
She falls into the Dance.  
At the Dances ending Loveby sees Constance.  Trice. 
Is she come! a Pox of all honest Women at such a time!  Lov. 
If she knows who these are, by this Light I am undone.  Const. 
Oh Servant, I come to mind you of your promise; come, produce my hundred pounds; the times out I set you.  Lov. 
Not till dark night upon my Reputation: I have not yet fpoke with the Gentleman in the black pantaloons; you know he seldom walks abroad by daylight: Dear Madam, let me wait on you to your Coach, and if I bring it not within this hour, discard me utterly.  Const. 
You must give me leave to salute the Company: What are they?  Lov. 
Persons of Quality of my acquaintance; but, I'll make your excuse to n'm.  Const. 
Nay, if they are Persons of Quality, I shall be rude to part from 'em so abruptly.  Lov. 
Why so! the Devil owed me a shame; and now he has paid me. I must present 'em what e'er come on't. (aside.— This Madam is my Lady Du Lake— the Lady Spring well,— The Lady Hoyden  (She and Isabelle Salute 'em.) Isa. 
What a Whiff was there came from my Lady Heyden! and, What a Garlic breath my Lady Spring-well had?  Trice. 
Ha', ha', ha', ha'.  Lov. 
Do not betray me, Justice, if you do.—  Isa. 
Oh, Are you thereabouts, Sir; then I smell a Rat I'faith; but I'll say nothing.  Const. 
Ladies, I am an humble Servant to you all, and account it my happiness to have met with so good Company, at my Cousin Trices.  Trice. 
Ha', ha', ha'.  L. Du Lake. 
Are these two Ladies of your acquaintance Son Loveby?  Lov. 
Son quoth a! a Pox of our Relation.—  (aside. L. Du Lake. 
I shall be glad to be better known to your Ladyships.  Const. 
You too much honour Servants, Madam.  Isa. 
How Loveby fidges up and down: in what pain he is! well, if these be not they they call Whores, I'll be hanged, though I never saw one before:—  (aside. Lov. 
Will your Ladyship please to go, Madam?  Const. 
I must beg the favour of these Ladies first, that I may know their Lodgings, and wait of 'em.  L. Du Lake. 
It will be our Duty to pay our respects first to your Ladyship  Con. 
I beg your Ladyship's pardon Madam—  L. Du L. 
Your Ladyship shall excuse us, Madam—  Isa. Trice. 
Ha', ha', ha'!  Lov. 
Ah Devil grinyou—  aside. Trice. 
I must go out, and laugh my belly full.  [Exit Trice. Con. 
But in earnest Madam, I must have no denial; I beseech your Ladyship instruct me where I may tender my devoyres?  La. D. 
Since your Ladyship commands me, Madam, I dare disobey no longer. My Lodgings are in St. Lucknors Lane, at the Cat and Fiddle.  Con. 
Whereabouts is that Lane, Servant?  Lov. 
Faith Madam, I know not that part o'th' Town.— Lord, how I sweat for fear—  aside. Con. 
And yours Madam, where, I beseech your Ladyship.  2d. 
Wh. In Dog and Bitch Yard, an't please your Ladyship.  3d. 
Wh. And mine in Sodom, so like your Ladyship.  Con. 
How Loveby! I did not think you would have used me thus?  Lov. 
I beseech your Ladyship but hear my Justification as I lead you.  Con. 
By no means, Sir; that were such a rudeness to leave persons of quality, to wait upon me: unhand me Sir.  Isa. 
Ha', ha', ha'.—  Exeunt Constance, Isabelle. Lov. 
I am ruined! for ever ruined, plague had you no places in the Town to name but Sodom, and Lucknors. Lane for Lodgings!  L. Du L. 
If any prejudice arise from it, upon my honour Son 'twas by mistake, and not intended you: I thought she desired to have been admitted of the quality.  Lov. 
I was cursed when I had first to do with you— kicks 'em  L. D. L. 
Well, I thank Heaven, that has endued me with such patience.  Exeunt all but Loveby and his Boy. Lov. 
I have made a fair hand on't to day— both lost my Mistress, and hear no news from my friend below: the World frowns upon me, and the Devil and my Mistress have forsaken me: my Godfathers and Godmothers have promised well for me: instead of renouncing them, they have renounced me.  Boy. 
Sir, I saw my Lady Constance smile as she went out: I am confident she's angry but from the teeth outwards; you might easily make fair weather with her, if you could get the money you promised her, but there's the devil—  Lov. 
Where is he boy? show me him quickly.  Boy. 
Marry God bless us! I mean Sir, there's the difficulty.  Lov. 
Damned rogue to put me in hope so.—  Enter Bibber at the other end. Lov. 
ud's so, look where Bibber is: now I think on't, he offered me a bag of forty pounds, and the Lease of his house yesterday: but that's his pocky humour, when I have money and do not ask him, he will offer it; but when I ask him he will not lend a farthing— turn this way Sirrah, and make as though we did not see him.—  Bib. 
Our Gentleman I think a talking with his boy there.—  Lov. 
You understand me—  Boy. 
I warrant you Sir.  Lov. 
No News yet; what an unlucky rascal 'tis! if the rogue should hereafter be reduced to the raiment of his own Shreds, I should not pity him—  Bib. 
How's this!  Lov. 
Now is this rascal hunting after jests, to make himself the greatest to all that know him.  Bib. 
This must be me.  Boy. 
I can hear neither tale nor tidings of him: I have searched him in all his haunts; amongst his Creditors; and in all Companies where they are like to break the least jest. I have visited the Coffeehouses for him; but among all the news there, I heard none of him.  (Bib. Goodifaith. Lov. 
Where's the warrant, I'll put in my own name, since I cannot find him.  Boy. 
Sir, I gave it a Scrivener at next door because I could not write, to fill up the blank place with Mr. Bibbers name.  Lov. 
What an unlucky vermin 'tis; now for an 100 l. could I have gratified him with a waiters Place at Custom-house, that had been worth to him an 100 l. a year upon the nail.  Bib. 
Can you so, could you so Sir? give me your hand, and I thank you hearty Mr. Loveby.  Lov. 
Art then honest Will? faith 'tis not worth thy thanks till it be done: I wish I had the money for thee.  Bib. 
How much is't Sir?  Lov. 
An hundred pounds would do it:  Bib. 
Let me see forty I have already by me; take that in part Sir;— and that, and the Lease of my house would overdo it.  Lov. 
By all means thy Lease Will: near scruple at that; hang a piece of Parchment, and two bits of soft wax: thou shalt do't, thou shalt boy.  Bib. 
Why then I will, Sir:— but stay, stay; now think on't, Frances has an 120 pieces of old Grandam and Aunt gold left her, that she would never let me touch: if we would get that Mr. Loveby— but she'll never part with't.  Lov. 
'Tis but saying the place is for her; a Waiting-woman's place in the Custom-house: Boy, go and tell her on't immediately.  Exit Boy. Bib. 
Hold a little; she has been very defirous to get a place in Court, that she might take place as the Queen's Servant.  Lov. 
She shall have a Dressers place, if thou'lt keep counsel. The worst on't is, I have never a Warrant ready.  Bib. 
'Tis all one for that Sir; she can neither write norread; 'tis but my telling her 'tis a Warrant and all's well. I can but laugh to think how she'll be choosed.  Lov. 
And you too: Mum. She's here Will.  Enter Frances. Franc. 
A Waiting-woman's place in the Custom-house! there's news for me! thank you kind Mr. Loveby; you have been instrumental I hear of my preferment.  Lov. 
No, 'tis a Dressers place at Court, Landlady.  Franc. 
O geminy! that's better news.  Bib. 
I, but you must make haste and fetch an hundred pieces: I can assure you 500 are bidden for it: and the Courtiers are such slippery youths, they are ever for the fairest Chapman.  Franc. 
I'll fetch it presently; oh how my heart quops now, as they say: I'll fetch it presently: fweet Mr. Loveby, if the business can be done, it shall be a good thing in your Worship's way I promise you: O the father! that it could be done: O sweet father!  Loveby plucks out a Paper. Lov. 
Here Mr. Bibber, pray put in Madam Bibbers name into the Warrant.  Bib. 
Madam Bibber, there's joy, I must call you Wife no more, 'tis Madam Bibber now.  Franc. 
Pray read it Mr. Bibber.  Bib. 
An Order for the admission of the Illustrious Lady Madam Bibber into her Majesty's service.  Franc. 
Pray give me the Paper, I'll have no body touch it but myself; I am sure my Money pays for it as they say. These are the fi-nest words; Madam Bibber; pray Chicken show me where Madam is written that I may kiss it all over. I shall make bold now to bear up to these flirting Gentlewomen, that sweep it up and down with their long tails. I thought myself as good as they when I was, as I was, but now I am, as I am.  Lov. 
Good Landlady dispatch, and bring the Money.—  Franc. 
Truly in the place of a Dresser, I dare be bold to say, as they say; I shall give their Majesty's Worships good content: I'll go fetch it.—  (Exit Frances. Bib. 
We must keep the poor Soul in ignorance as long as we can, Sir; for, when she has one smoked it, I have no other way but to retreat into the body of my Janissaries my Journeymen; and never come out into her presence more: Where will you be at nine a Clock, Sir, that we may rejoice over our good Fortune.  Lov. 
Call me at my Lord Nonsuch his House, and I'll go with you.  Bib. 
We'll have the Fiddles and triumph I'faith.  (Exit Bib. Lov. 
Lord, how eager this Vermin was to cheat himself: well, I'll after, I long to finger these Jacobus s: perhaps they may make my peace again with my Mistress.  (Exit Loveby. Enter Failer, Nonsuch. Constance and Isabelle listening. Fail. 
I Vow to Gad my Lord, Sir Timorous is the most dejected person in the World, and so full of regret for what is past. 'Twas his misfortune to be drawn in by such a Person as Madam Isabelle.  Non. 
'Tis well his Estate pleads for him; he should ne'er set foot more within my doors else.  Fail. 
All be security for him for time to come: leave it to me to get the Licence: all I desire is, your Daughter may be ready to morrow morning.  Non. 
Well, let me alone with her.  [Exeunt Failer, Nonsuch. Isa. 
You heard the dreadful sound to morrow Cousin.  Const. 
I would not throw myself away upon this Fool, if I could help it.  Isa. 
Better marry a Tertian Ague then a Fool, that's certain; there's one good day and night in that.  Const. 
And yet thou art mad of him thyself.  Isa. 
Nay, the Fool is a handsome Fool, that's somewhat; but 'tis not that; 'tis a kind of fancy I have taken to a Glass Coach, and six Flanders Mares; rich Liveries, and a good Fortune.  Const. 
Prithee do not mind me of 'em; for though I want 'em not, yet I find all Women are caught with Gaieties: one grain more would turn the balance on his side; I am so vexed at the wild courses of this Loveby.  Isa. 
Vexed? Why vexed? the worst you can say of him, is, he loves Women: and such make the kindest Husbands I am told. If you had a Sum of Money to put out; you would not look so much whether the Man were an honest Man, (for the Law would make him that) as if he were a good sufficient Paymaster.  Enter Setstone. Const. 
As I live thou art a mad Girl.  Set. 
She must be used as Mad-folks are then; had into the dark and cured,  Const. 
But, all this is no comfort to the word Tomorrow.  Isa. 
Well, what say you, if I put you to night into the Arms of Loveby?  Const. 
My condition's desperate, and past thy Physic.  Isa. 
When Physics past, what remains but to send for the Divine? here's little Nicodemus your Father's Chaplain; I have spoke with him already; for a brace of Angels he shall make all sure betwixt you without a Licence. I, and prove ten at night a more Canonical hour than ten i'th' Morning.  Const. 
I see not which way thou canst perform it; but if thou dost; I have many Admirations in store for thee.  (Whispers. Isa. 
Step in, and get a Cushion underneath your apron.  Const. 
O, I must be with Child it seems!  Isa. 
And Loveby shall bring you to Bed to night, if the Devil be not in the Dice: away, make haste;—  (Exit Constance. 
Setstone Be not you far off; I shall have need of you too: I hear my Uncle coming;—  
Me thinks I long to be revenged of this wicked Elder for hind ering of my Marriage to day: Hark you Setstone.—  Set. 
'Tis impossible, Madam: 'twill never take.  Isa. 
I warrant you, Do not I know him? he has not Brains enough, if they were buttreed to feed a blackbird— Nay, no replies— out of what I have said, you may instruct my Cousin too.  (Exit Setstone. Enter Nonsuch. Isa. 
Oh, Are you there, Sir? Faith it was kindly done of you to hinder me of a good Husband this afternoon: and but for one thing, I would resolve to leave your house.  Non. 
I'm glad there's any thing will stay thee.  Isa. 
If I stay; 'tis for love of my Cousin Constance, not of you: I should be loath to leave her in this sad condition!  Non. 
What condition?  Isa. 
Nay, I know not; she has not worn her Busk this fortnight. I think she's grown fat o'th' sudden.  Non. 
O Devil, Devil! what a fright am I in?  Isa. 
She has qualms to every morning: ravens mightily for greenfruit; and swoons at the sight of hot meat.  Non. 
She's with Child: I am undone! I am undone!  Isa. 
I understand nothing of such matters: She's but in the next room; best call her, and examine her about it.  Non. 
Why Constance, Constance?  Enter Constance, as with Child. Isa. 
Now for a broadside; turn your prow to him Cousin.  (to her. Non. 
Now Gentlewoman! is this possible?  Const. 
I do not reach your meaning, Sir.  Non. 
where have you been of late?  Const. 
I seldom stir without you, Sir: these Walls most commonly confine me.  Non. 
These Walls can get no Children; nor these Hang; though there be Men wrought in 'em.  Isa. 
Yet, by your favour Nuncle, Children may be wrought behind the Hang.  Non. 
O Constance, Constance! How have my grey hairs deserved this of thee? Who got that Belly there?  Con. 
You, I hope, Sir.  Non. 
Tell me the truth; for I will know it; come, the Story.  Const. 
The Story's quickly told, Sir, I'm with Child.  Non. 
And whos's the Father?  Const. 
I do not know, Sir.  Non. 
Not know! went there so many to't?  Const. 
So far from that, that there were none at all, to my best knowledge, Sir.  Non. 
Wast got by Miracle? who was the Father?  Const. 
Who got your Money, Sir, that you have lost?  Non. 
Nay, Heaven knows who got that.  Const. 
And, Heaven knows who got this: for, on my Conscience, he that had your Money, was the Father on't.  Non. 
The Devil it was as soon.  Const. 
That's all I fear, Sir.  Isa. 
'Tis strange: and yet 'twere hard, Sir, to suspect my Cousin's Virtue, since we know the house is haunted.  Non. 
'Tis true, that nothing can be laid, though under lock and key, but it miscarries.  Isa. 
'Tis not to be believed what these villainous Spirits can do: they go invisible.  Const. 
First they stole away my Prayer-Book; and a little after that a small Treatise I had against Temptation; and when they were gone, you know Sir—  Isa. 
If there be such do, pray Heaven we are not all with Child: 'tis certain that none that live within these Walls, but they have power of; I have feared Toby the Coachman any time this fortnight.  Non. 
Out impudence! a man with Child! why 'tis unnatural.  Isa. 
I, so is he that got it.  Non. 
Thou art not in earnest.  Isa. 
I would I were not; hark, I hear him groan hither: come in poor Toby.  Enter Toby Coachman, with an Urinal. Non. 
How now! what have you there, Sirrah?  Tob. 
an't please your worship 'tis my Water; I had a spice o'th' new Disease here i'th' house, and so carried it to Master Doctor.  Non. 
Well; and what did he say to you?  Tob. 
He told me very sad news, and please you: I am somewhat bashful to speak on't.  Isa. 
Out with it Man.  Tob. 
why truly he told me the party that owed the Water was with Child.  Isa. 
I told you so; Uncle.  Non. 
To my best remembrance I never heard of such a thing before.  Teb. 
I never stretch out myself to snap my Whip, but it goes to th' heart of me.  Isa. 
Alas poor Toby.  Non. 
Be gone, and put off your Livery Sirrah: you shall not stay a minute in my Service.  Tob. 
I beseech your good Worship be good to me; 'twas the first fault I ever committed in this kind: I have three poor Children by my Wife, and if you leave me to the wide World, with a new charge upon myself.  Non. 
Be gone, I will not hear a word.  Tob. 
If I must go, I'll not go alone: Ambrose Tinis the Cook is as bad as I am.  Non. 
I think you'll make me mad: Call the Rascal hither I must account with him upon another score now I think on't.  Enter Ambrose Tinis. Non. 
Sirrah, what made you send a Pheasant with one wing to the Table yesterday?  Amb. 
I beseech your Worship to pardon me, I longed for't.  Isab. 
I feared as much.  Amb. 
And I beseech your Worship let me have a boy to help me in the Kitchen; for I find myself unable to go through with the work: besides the Doctor has warned me of stooping to the fire, for fear of a mischance.  Non. 
Why, are you with child Sirrah!  Amb. 
So he tells me: but if I were put to my oath, I know not that ever I deserved for't:  Non. 
Still worse and worse: and here comes Setstone groaning.  Enter Setstone. Setst. 
O Sir I have been so troubled with swooning fits; and have so longed for cherries.  Non. 
He's pooped to.  Isa. 
Well, this is not the worst yet: I suspect something more; than I will speak on.  Non. 
What dost thou suspect; ha'!  Isa. 
Is not your Lordship with child too?  Non. 
Who, I with Child! Marry Heaven forbid: what dost thou see by me to ground it on?  Isa. 
You're very round of late; that's all Sir.  Non. 
Round, that's only fat I hope: I have had a very good stomach of late I'm sure.  Isab. 
Alas, and well you may: you eat for two Sir.  Non. 
Setstone look upon me, and tell me true: do you observe any alteration In me?  Set. 
I would not dishearten your Ladyship:— your Lordship I would say: but I have observed of late, your colour goes and comes extremely: methinks your Lordship looks very sharp, and bleak i'th' face, and mighty puff i'th' body.  Non. 
O the Devil! wretched men that we are all: nothing grieves me, but that in my old age, when others are past childbearing, I should come to be a disgrace to my family.  Con. 
How do you Sir? your eyes look wondrous dim: is not there a mist before 'em?  Isa. 
Do you not feel a kicking in your belly? when do you look Nuncle?  Non. 
Uh, uh! methinks I am very sick o'th' sudden?  Isa. 
What store of old shirts have you against the good time? shall I give you a shift Nuncle?  Non. 
Here's like to be a fine charge towards: we shall all be brought to bed together: well, if I be with Devil I will have such Gossips: an Usurer and a Scrivener shall be Godfathers.  Isa. 
I'll help you Nuncle, and Saundyes two Grannies shall be Godmothers: the Child shall be Christened by the Directory, and the Gossip's Gift shall be the good Scotch Kivenant.  Const. Set. Non. Toby. Ambr. Uh, uh, uh! Isa. 
What rare musics here!  Non. 
When e'er it comes from me 'twill kill me, that's certain:  Set. 
Best take a vomit.  Isa. 
an't comes upward the horns will choack him.  Non. 
Mass and so they will.  Isa. 
Your only way is to make sure o'th' Man-midwife.  Non. 
But my Child's dishonour troubles me the most: if I could but see her well married, before I underwent the labour and peril of Childbearing! what would you advice Niece!  Isa. 
That which I am very loath to do: send for honest Jack Loveby, and let him know the truth on't: he's a fellow without a fortune, and will be glad to leap at the occasion.  Non. 
But why Loveby of all the world? 'tis but staying till to morrow, and then Sir Timorous will marry her.  Con. 
Uh! I swell so fast, I cannot hid it till to morrow.  Isa. 
Why there's it now!  Non. 
I'll send for the old Alderman Getwell immediately: he'll father the Devil's Bastard I warrant you.  Isa. 
Fie Nuncle! my Cousins somewhat too good yet for an Alderman; if it were her third child she might hearken to you.  Non. 
Well, since it must be so, Setstone go you to Loveby, make my excuse to him for the arrest, and let him know what fortune may attend him.  Isa. 
Mr. Setstone, pray acquaint him with my Cousin's affection to him; and prepare him to father the Cushion underneath her Petticoat.  [aside to Set. Set. 
I'll bring him immediately.  Exit Setstone. Isa. 
When he comes Nuncle, pray cover your great belly with your hat, that he may not see it.  Non. 
It goes against my heart to marry her to this Loveby; but what must be, must be.  Enter Loveby. Con. 
O, Mr. Loveby! the welcomest man alive: you met Setstone I hope, that you came so opportunely.  Lov. 
No faith Madam, I came of my own accord.  Isa. 
'Tis unlucky he's not prepared.  Lov. 
Look you Madam, I have brought the 100 l. the Devil was as punctual as three a clock at a Playhouse: here, 'tis right I warrant it without telling: I took it upon his word— gives it.  Con. 
Your kindness shall be requited Servant: but I sent for you upon another business: Pray Cousin tell't him, for I am ashamed to do't.  Lov. 
Ha! 'tis not that great belly I hope! is't come to that?  Isa. 
Hark you Mr. Loveby,— a word with you.  Lov. 
A word with you Madam: whither is your Cousin bound?  Isa. 
Bound Sir?  Lov. 
I bond; look you, she's under sail, with a lusty fore-wind.  Non. 
I sent for you Sir, but to be plain with you 'twas more out of necessity than Love.  Lov. 
I wonder my Lord at your invincible ill nature: you forget the arrest that I passed by: but this 'tis to be civil to unthankful persons; 'tis feeding an ill-natured dog, that snarls while he takes the victuals from your hand.  Non. 
All friends, all friends; no ripping up old stories; you shall have my Daughter.  Lov. 
Faith I see your Lordship would let Lodgings ready furnished, but I am for an empty Tenement.  Non. 
I had almost forgot my own great belly; if he should discover that too!—  [Claps his hat before it. Isa. 
to Loveby. You will not hear me, Sir: 'tis all roguery as I live.  Lov. 
Flat roguery I'll swear; if I had been father on't; nay, if I had but laid my breeches upon the bed, I would have married her: but I see we are not ordained for one another.— is going.  Non. 
I beseech you Sir.—  Lov. 
Pray cover, my Lord.  Isa. 
He does his great belly, methinks—  Non. 
I'll make it up in money to you.  Lov. 
That cannot tempt me; I have a friend that shall be nameless, that will not see me want— and so your Servant.  Exit Loveby Isa. 
I'll after and bring him back—  Non. 
You shall not stir after him; does he scorn my daughter.  Isa. 
Lord how fretful you are: this breeding makes you so peevish Nuncle.  Non. 
'Tis no matter, she shall strait be married to Sir Timorous.  Con. 
I am ruined Cousin.  Isa. 
I warrant you:— My Lord I wish her well married to Sir Timorous; but Loveby will certainly infect him with the news of her great belly.  Non. 
I'll dispatch it e'er he can speak with him.  Isa. 
When e'er he comes, he'll see what a bona roba she is grown.  Non. 
Therefore it shall be done i'th' evening.  Isa. 
It shall my Lord.  Con. 
Shall it?  Isa. 
Let me alone Cousin,— and to this effect she wall write to him, that to conform to your will, and his modesty, she desires him to come hither alone this Evening.  Non. 
Excellent wench! I'll get my Chaplain ready.  Exit Nons. Con. 
How can you hope to deceive my father?  Isa. 
If I do not I have hard luck.  Con. 
You go so strange a way about, your bowl must be well biased to come in.  Isa. 
So plain a ground there's not the least rub in't, I'll meet Sir Timorous in the dark, and in your room marry him.  Con. 
You'll be sure to provide for one.  Isa. 
You mistake me Cousin: Oh! here's Setstone again;  Enter Setstone. 
Mr. Jeweller, you must again into your Devil's shape, and speak with Loveby: but pray be careful not to be discovered.  Set. 
I warrant you Madam; I have cozened wiser men than he in my own shape; and if I cannot continue it in a worse, let the Devil I make bold with, e'en make as bold with me.  Isa. 
You must guide him by back ways, to my Uncle's House, and so to my Cousin's Chamber, that he may not know where he is when he comes there: the rest I'll tell you as we go along.  Exeunt Omnes. Enter Timorous; after him Burr and Failer. Tim. 
Here here, read this Note; there's news for us.  Fail. 
Let me see't.  (reads.) 
Sir Timorous.  
Be at the Garden door at nine this Evening, there I'll receive you with my daughter; to gratify your modesty I designed this way, after I had better considered on it: and pray leave your Caterpillars Burr and Failer behind you.  
Yours Nonsuch.  
There is some trick in this, what e'rit be: but this word Caterpillars: you see Burr, Sir Timorous, is like to be lured from us.—  Burr. 
Is there no prevention?  To him aside. Fail. 
One way there is: Sir Timorous pray walk a turn while Burr and I confer a little upon this matter— Look you Burr, there is but one remedy in Nature I vow to gad: that is for you to have a new Sir Timorous, exceeding this person in bounty to you. Observe then, in Sir Timorous his place will I go, and igad I'll marry my Lady Constance; and then from the bowels of friendship bless thee with a thousand pounds, besides Lodging and Diet for thy life, boy.—  Burr. 
Umh— very well thought on.— No Sir, you shall trust to my bounty; I'll go in his place, murmur or repine, speak the least word, or give thy lips the least motion; and I'll beat thee till thou art not in condition to go.  Fail. 
I vow to gad this is extreme injustice: was it not my invention?  Burr. 
Why dost thou think thou art worthy to make use of thy own invention?— speak another word dee see— come help me quickly to strip Sir Timorous: his Coat may conduce to the deceit.  
— Sir Timorous by your leave.—  [falls on him. Tim. 
O Lord! what's the matter?— murder— murder.  Burr. 
dye open; I have something in my Pocket that will serve for a gag now I think on't.  (gags and binds him.) 
So lie there Knight. Come Sir, and help to make me Sir Timorous; and when I am married, remember to increase your manners with my fortune— yet we'll always drink together.  Exeunt.  

ACT. V.  
Constance, Isabelle, Nonsuch.  Con. 
THis is just the Knight's hour; and Lovers seldom come after their time.  Non. 
Good night Daughter, I'll to bed; and give you joy tomorrow morning.  Exit Nonsuch Isa. 
I'm glad he's gone: what, your train takes?  Con. 
Yes, yes; Loveby will come: Setstone has been with him in disguise; and promised him golden Mountains if he will not be wanting to his own fortune.  Isa. 
Is your habit provided too?  Con. 
All is ready.  Isa. 
Away then; for this is the place where we must part like Knights Errand, that take several paths to their adventures.  Con. 
'Tis time; for I hear some body come along the Alley; without question 'tis Timorous. Farewell, the Captain stays for me in my Chamber.  Isa. 
And I'll post after you to Matrimony; I have laid a fresh Parson at the next Stage that shall carry me tantivy.  Exit Constance. Enter Burr with Timorous his Coat on. Burr. 
My Lady Constance!  Isa. 
The same: Sir Timorous!  Burr. 
The same.  Isa. 
Sir Timorous takes me for my Cousin.  (aside.) Bur. 
My Lady Constance mistakes me for the Knight.  (aside.) Isa. 
Here, Sir; through the dark walk; 'tis but a little way about:— he's my own beyond Redemption.—  (aside. Bur. 
The Indies are mine; and a handsome Lady into the bargain.—  (Exeunt. Enter Failer, dogging them as they go off. Fail. 
He shall be hanged e'er he shall get her. Thus far I have dogged 'em, and this way I am sure they must pass e'er they come to the house: the Rogue had got the old Dogtrick of a Statesman; to fish things out of wiser heads than his own, and never so much as take notice of him that gave the Counsel.—  Enter Isabelle and Burr again. 
Now if I can but give her the hint without his knowledge!— Madam,— my Lady Constance—  Isa. 
Whose voice is that?  Fail. 
A word in private, or you are undone:— Pray step aside.  Bur. 
Where are you, Madam?  Isa. 
Immediately, Sir Timorous.  Fail. 
You are mistaken, Madam; 'tis not Sir Timorous; but Burr in his clothes: he has stripped the Knight; gauged him, and locked him up.  Isa. 
Failer?  Fail. 
The same: I could not but prevent your unhappiness, though I hazard my person in the discovery I Vow to Gad, Madam.  Burr. 
Who's that talks to you, my Lady Constance?  Isa. 
a Maid of my acquaintance that's come to take her leave of me before I marry; the poor soul does so pity me.  Bur. 
How will that Maid lie thinking of you and me to night!  Isa. 
Has he the Key about him?  (To Failer. Fail. 
I think so, Madam.  Isa. 
Can not you possibly pick his pocket, and give me the Key? then let me alone to release Sir Timorous; and you shall be witness of the wedding.  Fail. 
Igad you want your Cousin Isabells' wit to bring that to pass Madam.  Isa. 
I warrant you my own wit will serve to fool Burr,— and you too, or I am much deceived—  (aside) Fail. 
I am a little apprehensive of the Rascals fingers since I felt 'em last; and yet my fear has not power to resist the sweet temptation of revenge; I vow to Gad I'll try, Madam.—  Isa. 
Never fear; let me alone to keep him busy.—  Bur. 
Come, Madam, and let me take off those tasteless Kisses the Maid gave you; may we not join lips before we are Married?  Isa. 
No, fie, Sir Timorous.  They struggle a little, and in that time Failer picks his Pocket of the Key. Fail. 
I have it,— here 'tis,— now shift for yourself as I'll do: I ll wait you in the Alley.  (Exit Failer. Isa. 
Sir Timorous, pray go into my Chamber; and make no noise till I return: I'll but fetch the little Man of God, and follow you in a twinkling.  Bur. 
There's no light I hope.—  Isa. 
not a spark  Bur. 
For to light me to the mark—  Exit Burr. Isa. 
What a scouring have I scaped to night! fortune, 'tis thou hast been ingenious for me! Allons Isabelle! courage! now to deliver my Knight from the Enchanted Castle.  (Exit Isabelle. Enter Loveby led by Setstone anticly habited; with a torch in one hand, and a wand in the other. Lov. 
What art thou that hast lead me this long hour  
Through Lanes and Alleys, and blind passages?  Set. 
I am thy Genius; and conduct thee to  
Wealth, Fame, and Honour; what thou comest to do  
Do boldly: fear not; with this rod I charm thee;  
And neither Elf nor Goblin now can harm thee.  Lov. 
Well, march on; if thou art my Genius, thou art bound to be  
Answerable for me: I'll have thee hanged if I miscarry.  Set. 
Fear not my Son.  Lov. 
Fear not quoth a! then prithee put on a more familiar shape:— one of us two stinks extremely: prithee do not come so near me: I do not love to have my face bleached like a Tiffany with thy Brimstone.—  Set. 
Fear not, but follow me.—  Lov. 
I'faith I have no great mind to't: I am somewhat godly at present; but stay a month longer and I'll be proud, and fit for thee: in the mean time prithee stay the stomach with some Dutchman: an Hollander with Butter will fry rarely in Hell.  Set. 
Mortal, 'tis now too late for a retreat: go on and live: step back and thou art mine.  Lov. 
So I am however; first or last, but for once I'll trust thee.—  The Scene opens, and discover Constance; and a Parson by her, she habited like Fortune. Enter again. Set. 
Take here the mighty Queen of good and ill;  
Fortune, first Marry, then enjoy thy fill  
Of lawful pleasures; but depart e'er morn:  
Slip from her Bed, or else thou shalt be torn  
Piecemeal by Fiends; thy blood carowsed in Bowls,  
And thy four quarters blown to th' top of Paul's.  Lov. 
By your favour I'll never venture it: is marrying the business; I'll none I thank you.—  (Here Constance whispers Setstone. Set. 
Fortune will turn her back if twice denied.  Lov. 
Why she may turn her Girdle too on t'other side.  
This is the Devil; I will not venture on her.  Set. 
Fear not; she swears thou shalt receive no harm.  Lov. 
I, if a man durst trust her; but the Devil is got into such an ill name for lying.  Set. 
When e'er you are not pleased, it shall be lawful to sue out your Divorce.  Lov. 
I; but where shall I get a Lawyer? there you are aforehand with me: you have retained most of them already— for the favours I have received, I am very much her servant, but in the way of Matrimony, Mr. Parson there can tell you 'tis an Ordinance; and must not be entered into without mature deliberation: besides; Marriages you know are made in heaven; and that I am sure this was not.  Set. 
She bids you then at least, restore that Gold, which she, too lavishly, poured out on you unthankful Man.—  Lov. 
Faith I have it not at present; 'tis all gone, as I am a sinner; but, 'tis gone wickedly; all spent in the Devil her Father's service.  Set. 
Where is the grateful sense of all your favours? Come, Fiend's, with Fleshhooks tear the wretch in pieces, and bear his Soul upon your leather wings, below the Fountain of the dark Abyfs.  Lov. 
What, are you a Conjuring? if you are good at that sport, I can Conjure as well as you—  (Draws his Sword. Con. 
Hold; for Heaven's sake hold, I am no spirit: touch but my hand; Ghosts have no Flesh and Blood.  (Discovering. Lov. 
My Lady Constance! I began to suspect it might be a trick; but never could imagine you the Author: it seems you are desirous I should Father this Hans en Kelder here.  Const. 
I know not how without a blush to tell you it was a cheat I practised for your Love.  Set. 
A mere Tympany, Sir, raised by a Cushion; you see 'tis gone already.  Const. 
Setstone was sent to have acquainted you; but by the way unfortunately missed you.  Lov. 
‛ I was you then that supplied me all this while with Money; pretty Familiar, I hope to make thee amends e'er I sleep to night: come Parson, prithee make haste and join us. I long to be out of her debt poor Rogue.  The Parson takes them to the side of the Stage: they turn their backs to the Audience, while he mumbles to them. Set. 
I'll be the Clerk; Amen, give you joy Mr. Bridegroom, and Mrs. Bride.  Lov. 
Const. Thanks honest Setstone.  Bib. Franc. And Music without, they Play. Music. 
God give your worship a good even Mr. Loveby.  Const. 
Hark! what noise is that? Is this Music of your providing, Setstone.  Set. 
Alas, Madam, I know nothing of it.  Lov. 
We are betrayed to your Father, but the best on't is, he comes too late to hinder us— fear not, Madam, I'll bear you through them all.—  As they rush out; Bibber, Frances, and Music are entering in: Bibber and Frances are beaten down. [Exeunt Loveby, Constance, Setstone, Parson, 
All cry out, Oh the Devil! the Devil! the Devil!  Bib. 
Lord bless us, Where are you Frances?  Franc. 
Here William! this is a judgement, as they say, upon you William; for trusting Wits: and calling Gentlemen to the Tavern, William.  Bib. 
No; 'twas a Judgement upon you, for desiring Preferment at Court, Frances. Let's call up the Watch, and Justice Trice, to have the house searched.  Franc. 
I, I; there's more Devils there I warrant you.  (Exeunt. Enter Loveby, Constance, Setstone, again. Lov. 
It was certainly Will. Bibber and his Wife with Music: for now I remember myself I pointed him this hour at your Father's house: but we frighted them worse than they frighted us.  Const. 
Our Parson run away too:— when they cried out the Devil!  Lov. 
He was the wiser: for if the Devil had come ind eed, he has Preached so long against him it would have gone hard with him.  Set. 
Indeed I have always observed Parsons to be more fearful of the Devil than other people.  Lov. 
Oh the Devil's the Spirit, and the Parson's the Flesh: and betwixt those two there must be War: yet to do 'em both right, I think in my Conscience they quarrel only like Lawyers for their Fees; and meet good friends in private to laugh at their Clients.  Con. 
I saw him run in at my Cousin Isabells' chamber door, which was wide open; I believe she's returned: we'll fetch a light from the Gallery, and give her joy.—  Lov. 
Why is she Married, Madam?  Con. 
I'll tell you as we go.—  (Exeunt. The Scene changes; Burr and the Parson enter, meeting in the dark. Bur. 
My Lady Constance are you come again? that's well: I have waited sufficiently for you in the dark.  Pars. 
Help, help, help good Christian People! the Devil, the Devils here.  Bur. 
'Tis I Madam; what do you mean?  Pars. 
Avoid Satan! avoid, avoid.  Bur. 
What have I here, the hairy Woman?  Enter Loveby, Constance with the light. Bur. 
Ha! yonder's my Lady Constance! Who have I got, a stone-Priest by this good Light. How's this, Loveby too!  Lov. 
Burr, a beating my Reverend Clergy: What make you here at this unseasonable hour! I'll know your business—  (Draws. Bur. 
Will you Sir?—  (They Fight. Const. 
Set. Parson. Help, Murder, murder.  Enter at one Door, Trice Drunk: with the Watch: Bibber: and Frances following, At the other Nonsuch. and Servants, and Failer. Non. 
Murder, murder! beat down their weapons: Will you murder Sir Timorous, Mr. Loveby—  (They disarm both. Sir Timorous! 
ha', Burr! Thiefs; thiefs! Sat down good Mr. Justice, and take their Examinations: now I shall know how my Money went.  Trice. 
They shall have Justice I warrant 'em.  (Goes to sit and misses the chair. Bib. 
The Justice is almost dead drunk, my Lord.  Franc. 
But an't please your Worship my Lord this is not the worst sight that we have seen her to night in your Worship's house, we met three or four hugeous ugly Devils, with eyes like Saucers, that threw down my Husband, that threw down me, that made my heart so panck ever since, as they say.  Non. 
The Devil again in my house.  Lov. 
Nay, here he was, that's certain; he brought me hither, I know not how myself, and Married me; Mr Setstone there can justify it: but the best is, I have a Charm about me that will lay him yet e'er midnight.  Fail. 
And I Vow to Gad my Lord, I know as little how I came hither as any man.  Bur. 
Nor 1  Trice. 
Nor 1  Lov. 
No I dare swear dost thou not Mr. Justice.  Trice. 
But I wonder how the Devil durst come into our Ward, when he knows I have been at the Duties of— my Family— this evening.  Enter one of the Watch, with Timorous, and Isabelle. Watch. 
And please your Worship I met this couple in the street late, and so seeing them to be man and woman, I brought 'em along with me, upon suspicion of Felony together.  Franc. 
This is the proud minx that sought shelter in my house this afternoon Mr. Justice.  Fail. 
Sir Timorous and Madam Isabelle! I Vow to Gad we are undone Burr.—  Isa. 
Do not you know me, Mr. Justice?  Lov. 
Justice is blind, he knows no body.  Isa. 
My name is Isabelle.  Fran. 
No, thy name is Jezabelle: I warrant you there's none but Rogues and Papists would be abroad at this time of night.  Bib. 
Hold Frances.—  Trice. 
She's drunk I warrant her as any beast: I wonder woman you do not consider what a crying sin Drunkenness is? Whom do you learn it from in our Parish? I'm sure you never see me worse.  Isa. 
Burr and Failer; acknowledge yourselves a couple of recreant Knights: Sir Timorous is mine: I have won him in fair Field from you.  Con. 
Give you joy Cousin,— give you joy!  Lov. 
Married!  Isa. 
And in Diana's Grove boy.  Lov. 
Why 'tis fine by heaven; 'tis wondrous fine; as the Poet goes on sweetly.  Tim. 
I am sure they had gagged me, and bound me, and stripped me almost stark naked, and locked me up as fast as a Butterfly, till she came and made me a man again; and therefore I have reason to love her the longest day I have to live.  Isa. 
I, and the longest night too, or you are to blame. And you have one argument I love you, if the proverb be true, for I took you almost in your bare shirt.  Burr. 
So much for us Failer!  Con. 
Well my Lord, it had as good at first as at last: I must beg your Lordship's blessing for this Gentleman and myself.  both kneel. Non. 
Why you are not Married to him I hope! he's Married to the Devil.  Lov. 
'Twas a white Devil of your Lordships getting then; Mr. Setstone, and the Reverend here can witness it.  Set. 
Par. We must speak truth my Lord.  Non. 
Would I had another Child for your sake, you should ne'er see penny of my money.  Lov. 
Thank you my Lord; but methinks 'tis much better as 'tis.  Isa. 
Come Nuncle 'tis in vain to hold out now 'tis past remedy: 'tis like the last Act of a Play when people must Marry; and if fathers will not consent then, they should throw Oranges at 'em from the Galleries: why should you stand off to keep us from a Dance?  Non. 
But there's one thing still that troubles me, that's her great belly, and my own too.  Con. 
Nay for mine my Lord, 'tis vanished already: 'twas but a trick to catch the old one.  Lov. 
But I'll do my best; she shall not be long without another.  Isa. 
But as for your great belly Nuncle, I know no way to rid you on't but by taking out your guts.  Loveby. 
'Tis such a pretty smart rascal; 'tis well I am pleased with my own choice; but I could have got such Hectors and Poets and Gamesters out of thee  Con. 
No, no; two Wits could never have lived well together; want would have so sharpened you upon one another.  Isa. 
A Wit should naturally be joined to a fortune; by the same reason your Vintners feed their hungry Wines.  Con. 
And if Sir Timorous and I had married; we two fortunes must have built Hospitals with our Money, we could never have spent it else.  Lov. 
Or what think you of paying Courtiers debts with it.  Isa. 
Well, to show I am in charity with my Enemies, I'll make a motion: while we are in Town let us hire a large house, and live together: Burr and Failer.—  Fail. 
Shall be utterly discarded; I knew 'twould come to that I vow to gad.  Isa. 
Shall be our Guests.  Burr and Failer throw up their Caps, and cry Vivi, Madam Isabelle. Lov. 
And Bibber shall make our Wedding clothes without trusting.  Bib. 
No, hence forward I'll trust none but landed men; and such as have houses and appletrees in the Country: now I have got a Place in the Customehouse.  Franc. 
Nothing vexes me, but that this flirting Gentlewoman should go before me; but I'll to the Herald's Office, and see whether the Queen's Majesty's Dresser should not take place of any Knight's Wife in Christendom.  Bib. 
Now all will out— no more good Frances.  Franc. 
I will speak, that I will, so I will: what! shall I be a Dresser to the Queen's Majesty, and no body must know on't; I'll send Mr. Churchwarden word on't; and Gentlemen, when you come to St. Bride's Church (if ever you come to Church Gentlemen) you shall see me in the Pew that's next the Pulpit; thank Mr. Loveby's Worship for't.  Loveby. 
Spare your thanks good Landlady, for the truth is we came too late, the Place is gone; and so is yours Will; but you shall have 200 l. for One, if that will satisfy you.  Franc. 
This is better news as they say.  Lov. 
Cheer up thy Wife Will: where are they fiddles? a dance should do it:  Bib. 
I'll run and call 'em.  Isa. 
I have found out that will comfort her: henceforward I christian her by the name of Madam Bibber.  All. 
A Madam Bibber, A Madam Bibber.  Franc. 
Why, I thank you sweet Gentlemen and Ladies, this is a Cordial to my drooping spirits: I confess I was a little eclipsed; but I'll cheer up with abundance of love, as they say. Strike up Fiddles.—  Lov. 
That's a good Wench.  Dance. Trice. 
This Music, and a little nod has recovered me; I'll in and provide for the Sack-Posset.  Non. 
To bed, to bed; 'tis late: Son Loveby get me a boy to night, and I'll settle three thousand a year upon him the first day he calls me Grandsire.  Lov. 
I'll do my best.  
To make the bargain sure before I sleep.  
Where Love and money strike, the blow goes deep.    


EPILOGUE to the WILD GALLANT, as it was first Acted.  
The Wild Gallant has quite played out his game;  
He's married now, and that will make him tame;  
Or if you think Marriage will not reclaim him,  
The Critics swear they'll damn him, but they'll tame him,  
Yet though our Poet's threatened most by these,  
They are the only People he can please:  
For he to humour them, has shown to day,  
That which they only like, a wretched Play:  
But though his Play be ill, here have been shown  
The greatest Wits, and Beauties of the Town,  
And his Occasion having brought you here  
You are too grateful to become severe.  
There is not any Person here so mean,  
But he may freely judge each Act and Scene:  
But if you bid him choose his Judges then,  
He boldly names true English Gentlemen:  
For he ne'er thought a handsome Garb or Dress,  
So great a Crime to make their Judgement less:  
And with these Gallants he these Ladies joins,  
To judge that Language their Converse refines.  
But if their Censures should condemn his Play,  
Far from Disputing, he does only pray  
He may Leander's Destiny obtain:  
Now spare him, drown him when he comes again.   

EPILOGUE to the WILD GALLANT revived.  
OF all Dramatic Writing, Comic Wit,  
As 'tis the best, so 'tis most hard to hit.  
For it lies all in level to the eye,  
Where all may judge, and each defect may spy.  
Humour is that which every day we meet,  
And therefore known as every public street;  
In which, if e'er the Poet go astray  
You all can point, 'twas there he lost his way,  
But, What's so common, to make pleasant too,  
Is more than any wit can always do.  
For 'tis, like Turks, with Hen and Rice to treat;  
To make regalios out of common meat.  
But, in your Diet you grow Savages:  
Nothing but Humane flesh your taste can please:  
And, as their Feasts with slaughtered slaves began,  
So you, at each new Play must have a Man.  
Hither you come, as to see Prizes fought;  
If no Blood's drawn, you cry the Prize is naught.  
But fools grow wary now; and when they see  
A Poet eyeing round the Company,  
Strait each man for himself gins to doubt;  
They shrink like Seamen when a Press comes out.  
Few of 'em will be found for Public use,  
Except you charge an Oph upon each house,  
Like the Train-Bands, and every man engage  
For a sufficient Fool to serve the Stage.  
And, when with much ado you get him there,  
Where he in all his glory should appear,  
Your Poets make him such rare things to say,  
That he's more wit than any Man i'th' Play.  
But of so ill a mingle with the rest,  
As when a Parrat's taught to break a jest.  
Thus aiming to be fine, they make a show  
As tawdry Squires in Country Churches do.  
Things well considered, 'tis so hard to make  
A Comedy, which should the knowing take:  
That our dull Poet, in despair to please,  
Does humbly beg by me his Writ of ease.  
'Tis a Land-tax, which he's too poor to pay;  
You, therefore must some other Impost lay.  
Would you but change for serious Plot and Verse  
This mottley garniture of Fool and Farce,  
Nor scorn a Mode, because 'tis taught at home,  
Which does, like Vests, our Gravity become;  
Our Poet yields you should this Play refuse,  
As Tradesmen by the change of fashions, lose  
With some content their fripperies of France,  
In hope it may their staple Trade advance.   
FINIS.